MOSUL, Iraq — As Iraqi forces push deeper into western Mosul, the assault is bringing a surge of casualties — at least 30 Iraqi security forces and more than 200 civilians have been killed or wounded in the last three days.

Iraq’s military does not release official casualty reports, but medics at front-line clinics provided figures on condition of anonymity.

The sudden spike in casualty numbers mirrors what played out in Mosul’s east as the fight moved from rural villages to dense urban areas. Front-line medic stations that stood empty for the first days of the assault on Mosul’s west are now overflowing.

At one clinic Sunday, the dead had to be moved to the ground to free up beds as more injured arrived.

Soldiers have been facing shelling along a route used by the thousands of civilians fleeing Mosul on foot in the days after Iraqi forces first punched into Mamun neighborhood on Friday.

Up to 3,000 people fled from the Mamun neighborhood Sunday morning, according to Iraqi special forces Brigadier General Salam Hashed, who oversees a screening center south of Mosul. Hashed said just over 2,500 people fled the previous day.

According to the UN figures, about 750,000 civilians are believed to be trapped in their houses in western Mosul.

In one attack, Iraqi special forces Major Saif Ali yelled to his driver to stop and leaped out of his vehicle after his group came under mortar shelling from a suspected Islamic State position.

Two soldiers were found wounded beside their smoking vehicle on the side of a dusty dirt road.

‘‘Put one inside and the other on top!’’ Ali called to his men. One was put in Ali’s seat, the other laid on the vehicle’s hood. ‘‘Go!’’ he shouted, crouching on the hood next to the wounded man.

His driver blared the horn and the gunner shot into the air trying to clear a way through a sea of fleeing civilians and livestock.

Ali had been on his way back to base after a quick visit to the edge of Mamun. Now he was gripping the grate of his Humvee, using his own weight to keep the wounded man from sliding off the hood.

On Sunday afternoon, Iraq’s special forces were still struggling to clear Mamun, bringing them back to a phase of grueling urban combat similar to the fight for eastern Mosul in early November when military attrition rates spiked.

The whizz of mortars on the edge of Mamun repeatedly sent families scattering for cover as they tried to flee Mosul’s city limits.

The route civilians are using to flee on foot is still within mortar range of ISIS fighters inside the city and largely out in the open, leaving people more vulnerable than those who fled the city’s eastern side.

‘‘You can see this road is continually being hit by mortars from [the Islamic State],’’ said Lieutenant General Abdel Ghani al-Asadi, standing a few miles back from the front, pointing to the clouds of dust kicked up by the munitions on Mosul’s edge.

At the clinic south of Mosul casualties came in waves: Humvees and pickup trucks swerved in front of the row of simple cots manned by a team of about a dozen doctors and medics.

Rahma Ghanim anxiously looked up as doctors checked her for serious wounds. The 19-year-old had been separated from the rest of her family when Iraqi security forces evacuated them from the edge of Mosul.

Her uncle had stepped on a roadside bomb. The blast killed him instantly, struck her in the back with mild shrapnel wounds, and took a finger off her oldest brother’s hand.

A Humvee arrived with the rest of her family and she screamed with joy, pulling away from the doctors treating her when she saw her father and aunt on the hood. The three embraced in tears.

‘‘Where are the rest?’’ she asked.

Soldiers began opening the doors and six children climbed out, but in one seat was a small body wrapped in a colorful blanket.

‘‘He’s dead! Oh God! Oh God!’’ Rahma collapsed to the ground with her aunt. She screamed cursing ISIS, ‘‘May God destroy their houses! May God burn their hearts!’’

Her father, Ghanim Hussein, staggered to a sofa in shock, his face caked with dust and blood. ‘‘His name was Shukran,’’ he said. ‘‘He was my youngest, four years old.’’

Soldiers moved the small body to the side of the road and sped off back to the front as quickly as they arrived.

‘‘Inside Mamun the streets are full of bodies,’’ Rawa Salem, Rahma’s cousin, said.

‘‘I saw twenty dead with my own eyes, many of them children.’’