He would wear her jacket after the war. If she lived, if she still drew breaths into her small, fragile, human body, then maybe she would have teased him about the jacket being able to fit his skinny frame, and he might of retorted about how the jacket was three sizes too big for her. He might have brought up about how he doesn't understand how she was able to pull the trigger on her gun when her long sleeves were in the way, he would have regretted saying that.
He begged her not to join, said he would do anything to stop her, but she pressed her finger to his lips and touched her tongue to her teeth, telling him that helping was just what they did.
He was with her holding her hand as she registered.
He was there when Jackie got a call that her baby girl was dead three weeks before the war ended.
He was there was Jackie as she cried and screamed, breaking glass and causing blood to flow from his cheeks, where she scrached because he didn't stop her daughter from joining the millitary. Eventually he let his own tears flow, crying into Jakie's shoulder.
He was there when they delivered her body, in a crumbling wooden coffin, bairly holding together as the uniformed men carried it up to the doorstep.
He was there when one of the men gave him her millitary jacket, that had a hole and a splatter of dry blood on the side. The name 'Tyler' was stitched over the left breast.
He was there at the funeral, holding Jakie's hand, as Rose's old friends gave their speeches never finishing because the tears came faster then they believed, and they crumbled in front of their audience.
He was there at Rose's grave when an oblivious old woman asked if the jacket slung across his shoulder, that was slowly getting drenched in the early rain, was his. He stepped back, looked at the woman, and motioned towards the grave.