Jessica Rich was a soldier, we were soldiers once. . . now she is gone. . .

May you dwell in a place in your Father's Mansion where there are no lying officers, rapists, or medical board bandits and medical hold abusers. May your soul enter into the light of a loving Creator, Little Strong Deer, warrioress, my little sister. I know you knew the terror of counting coup.

You were loved. You were a soldier. You were my friend. Your country forgot you when you needed them to help you heal. You needed them so badly, and you reached out for help, yes you begged to be helped. I was there when your lousy chain of command failed you all the way up to the Commander-in-Chief. I was there when your Army discarded you after using you and allowing crimes to your person. I was there when we talked to all the reporters and T.V. and media people that wanted our stories. I was there when your community ignored you, and us, and still sits on its hands about PTSD awash in a dirty polluted river of fraud and denial.

You died from the bottle and the wheel, that's on paper down at the county morgue, along with your small spent body. But I know why you really died Jesse, and I call you a casualty of war, and the other brothers and sisters are in agreement with me. I know you see us, and I know you know WE cared, WE gave a damn. I grieve for you, more even because of all the dishonor they did to you. They didn't just rape your body, they raped your soul.

You died from giving up after nobody would care enough for you to care about yourself. You died from your dreams which haunted you. You died from the ignorance of others, indeed, those who were charged to meet your needs. If they read this I hope they feel the hot coles burning through their maimed consciences. You only failed yourself because they failed you when you asked them for help, and then you could not find the door.

I grieve not only your being gone forever, I grieve all soldiers with your kind of death, and there are so many. I grieve all the Jessica's, all the female companions in arms who went into harm's way with me. Your little Braveheart could not best the tangled mess they made of your mind. I loved you like a daughter, like my own little girl. I hate them for how they treated you and then destroyed you.

I believe you will now be this war's Saint of the Female Soldier. I believe this because you suffered so in this life, and your heart is now light and free, and your name is in a place of the honor you deserved here, and your mind of a good way.

Jessica Rich was a soldier. She had honor and dignity. We were soldiers once together. May all those who served remember her name, and know this war killed her, nothing else.