Her son took his own life. Why this military mom is now trying to fulfill his final wishes.

Editor's note: This story discusses self-harm. If you or a loved one are at risk, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline for support at 988 or 1-800-273-8255.

FORT CAMPBELL, Kentucky — The Army sergeant requested a Red Bull.

He wanted cigarettes, Marlboro red.

There was more he wanted to take with him. He asked for a tin of Grizzly dipping tobacco, pictures of his family and separate pictures of his father. He left 10 screens worth of directions and a 1,000-plus word message on his phone, for which he wrote out his password on a piece of paper to make the investigators' job a little easier. He wanted his fellow soldiers to know how much he cared for them, and how none of this was their fault.

Sgt. Hayden E. West, a military police officer stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, called his list "A Tall Request."

On Feb. 26, 2023, West, who had just turned 23, ironed his dress blue uniform, neatly placed his socks inside his dress shoes, pointed his gun and shot himself.

He requested to be buried in his blues with all the other items in his casket.

His family not only fulfilled his wishes, they included three Red Bulls.

An even taller request

Now Mary West, the sergeant's mother, has a tall request of her own.

She wants the Army to listen, to change, to try to save the lives of the men and women who have pledged to risk their lives for the United States.

The Veterans Administration released a study in 2022 that concluded 17 veterans take their own lives each day in America. The number rises to more than 20 if active-duty military members are figured in. There are still other studies reporting much higher suicide rates.

"I don't want to lose anyone else," said West, 52. "I'm pretty angry. If you have someone who is willing to fight for their country, they should have the best mental health care. I think the military sees them and treats them like death pawns. They are bullseyes."

On March 16, she was in the first row in Fort Campbell's Liberty Chapel as about 150 soldiers said goodbye to her son with a bugled "Taps" and a gun volley salute. She wanted to tell them the Army needs to stop driving its members toward suicide, that her son was struggling and couldn't find help, that she would fight with everything she's got for better mental health care for future soldiers.

She wanted to remind the tearful audience her son was the second member of the 194th Military Police company (her son's friend, Staff Sgt. Fredis Alexander Velasquez, was the other) to die of suicide in the last year.

But she was not permitted to speak.

The Paste BN Network sent questions about Sgt. West to the Fort Campbell Public Affairs office, but they were not answered.

Instead, she listened to a chaplain say he wished her son "would have reached out to any one of us."

She sat in the chapel surrounded by family who all knew Sgt. West had reached out for help several times and found the Army's mental health program inadequate.

She said she has heard from several families of military suicide victims who say their soldiers were "being harassed, bullied, intimidated" if they dare admit they need help. She said they are put on waiting lists for care or simply prescribed pills. Her son, who she believes may have had an undiagnosed mental disorder, was taking a sleep aid and a pain killer at the time of his death.

In the weeks since he died, she has participated in several memorial services filled with pomp and circumstance including a color guard ceremony at the Pittsburgh International Airport.

"Wouldn't it be much cheaper to help that soldier stay alive?" she said.

As the mother of a fallen soldier, West now qualifies for mental health benefits to help her cope with her loss.

"I would never take any help from them," she said.

'Concerned about suicide'

There aren't enough mental health professionals in America, let alone in the military, said Dr. Rajeev Ramchand, executive co-director of the National Action Alliance for Suicide Prevention.

"In the military, they are managing crises instead of providing care," Ramchand said.

Ramchand was part of a Department of Defense group that studied 13 U.S. military installations concerning their suicide prevention practices. They released a report that included recommendations like "fostering quality of life, building healthy climates and cultures, addressing stigma as a barrier to help-seeking, and promoting a culture of lethal means safety."

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"They are overwhelmed," he said. "They have huge caseloads. The problem is: Which cases are at risk of suicide? There are definite deficiencies."

Ramchand said the culture of the military contributes to the problem. As the recruiting numbers dwindle, the workload for soldiers increases and there is not adequate time off, he said.

"There is a culture of alcohol, and easy access to firearms," he said.

The bottom line is that suicide awareness has grown.

"The DOD is concerned about suicide," Ramchand said. "But it's not something we can train our way out of. We have to ask, what are you doing to mitigate stressors?"

The cycle of suicide

Suicide is far too familiar for Mary West.

Her grandfather took his own life. So did her uncle. And then her husband.

She and her family settled in St. Clairsville, a little city off Interstate 70 in Ohio near the West Virginia border. She worked in a hospital emergency room doing registrations and admissions. Her husband, Kevin, was a firefighter, and, she said, may have had an undiagnosed mental disorder. They had three boys, Colton, Hayden and Jordon. Hayden and his father were particularly close.

On Jan. 29, 2012, Kevin West killed himself, just before Hayden's 12th birthday.

"Those three boys were my priority," West said. "The goal was to keep them alive."

Hayden was different than his brothers. It was as if he was born a soldier. West always gave him Army birthday parties. He loved to wear a camouflage hat and fatigues.

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"He had the soldier mentality — to be strong and ready," West said. 

He enlisted in the Army before he graduated from St. Clairsville High School in 2018.

"If I didn't sign the papers, he would have," she said. "I knew it was going to be a hard road."

Hayden West was sworn in on July 17, 2018. After he completed basic training at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri, he was assigned to the 194th Military Police Company in the 716th Military Police Battalion. He spent some time in Wiesbaden, Germany, and Fort Polk in Louisiana. For most of his Army service, his home was Fort Campbell.

Mary West said her son had difficulty with commanding officers screaming in his face. Once, he was in the bathroom for more than two minutes, and his CO slammed opened the door leaving Hayden with an injured leg.

"That was hard to hear," she said.

Her son also said his job as a military police officer was difficult. He saw the worst of people, and he struggled with his own anger issues.

"Hayden was a stick of dynamite," she said.

Help wasn't happening

Hayden married Camila Bendeck Fernandez on Oct. 18, 2021.

"I think he was happy," Bendeck Fernandez said. "But he would often tell me how stressed he was ... He had anxiety, maybe depression."

His mother said his appearing happy was a cover.

"He looked fine, and he acted fine," she said. "He kept his mental anguish away from me and his family."

Even his outward display of a good mood was shattered in early 2022 when his good buddy, who West called "V," took his own life.

Staff Sgt. Fredis Velasquez was a leader in the 194th. When West became a military police officer, it was Velasquez who put the pin on his chest. Mary West said V and her son "clicked."

On Jan. 31, 2022, Velaquez shot himself.

"It was very hard on (West)," Bendeck Fernandez said. "He called me from the car, and he was crying."

Velasquez' death changed West. "He took that terribly hard," his mother said.

His wife said he kept telling her how tired he was. She started asking him to get help.

Bendeck Fernandez said he finally went to get counseling, but he was worried "word would get out."

He saw a counselor a couple of times, but stopped because he said "It wasn't helping."

He went again, but he was given a list of questions in a large room full of people. He told his wife all the people in the room were given a speech.

"He said they told him, 'If you don't want to work, this is not the place to come,'" she said, explaining the speech was about people trying to cheat the system.

She said he stood up and said, "This is unacceptable," and walked out.

The third (and final) time he asked for help, he was put on a waiting list.

He told his wife the stress he felt was like "getting attacked." He told her he was fine because "he had ammunition and he was fighting back." By ammunition, he meant a supportive family and good memories.

"They (the Army) treated him like it was nothing," Bendeck Fernandez said. "Like it didn't matter. They could have prevented this."

'I was horrified'

Sgt. Hayden West had new tires on his Jeep. He was making plans to take leave on May 6.

His last day as a military police officer would have been in July.

Mary West was eating breakfast on Feb. 26 when she got a text from Bendeck Fernandez asking if she had heard from Hayden.

At that moment, she knew.

"I was horrified," she said.

Two friends went to his apartment near Fort Campbell. They broke a window to get in.

She is committed to helping other military men and women. So far, she and her family have helped raise more than $12,000 at StopSoldierSuicide.org. They plan to donate whatever money they make to better counseling services.

"I want to make a difference," West said. 

Getting involved to help other soldiers was on his list. 

Reach Keith Sharon at ksharon@tennessean.com.