The smell is wrong. There is no brimstone, no caustic scent of acidic demon-blood. There is fire and there is burning flesh. But no brimstone, and that is wrong.
The sounds are wrong. It is loud, as it should be. There are screams, as there should be. But the cries are terror, not rage, and that's wrong, too.
What realm of hell is this, that abandons the destructive reds and blacks and replaces them with washed-out grays and greens? Factions of demons (demons in clothes? that's wrong) fight from opposite sides of the beach. One side spawns from the water (water! not hellfire? wrong.), the other defends from the stone. Fire demon, water demon, stone demon, they're all mortal. This rifle (Springfield? old school. Nice.) will prove it.
There's no time to figure out what form of hellspawn is hidden behind the earthworks before a rifle shot sends it to the ground. It doesn't die quickly though. It actually looks up, shocked. Fearful. As demons should be. Now it's screaming. Not unusual. It's shot in the gut- and there's not a pleasant place to get shot, but there are places worse than others and wearing guts for garters might actually be less painful than being shot through them. The wound is a mess, there's blood everywhere, the demon's pants are damp with a particularly wet spot at... his crotch. Oh. That's wrong. Demons don't wet themselves. That's a human (human? in hell? wrong.) thing. Is it screaming words?
Coming closer seems to terrify him more. The screams reach a new pitch, but his mama can't hear him. His buddies ten meters away can't hear him over the artillery, his mama doesn't have a chance.
He's suffering. He probably won't recover. But ending it early doesn't seem possible. Not when it's human. Feels... Wrong.
There's nothing to guard the other soldier from. The fighting has moved up the beach. But leaving him to die alone seems worse than killing him sooner. The screaming stops, but only because the guy doesn't have the energy anymore. Not sure if he even knows where he is or that his killer is with him. He's still mumbling for his mama.
It's both pleasing and harrowing to know that he had forgotten about this realm of hell. The one time the Devil let Man shape his domain, Man proved that they could put him out of business. The Devil didn't let Man play with his stuff after that.
When the soldier dies, it's almost unnoticeable, a small choke, a desperate gurgle, the relief of silence. Closing the guy's eyes doesn't really help make him look restful, what with all the blood and viscera scattered around his corpse. That and his face is still screwed up in pain and the only bit of skin not covered in filth is where tears had washed it off.
War would always be the worst hell.