THE WALL OF FACES

Great sadness fills our hearts today
As pipes and drums, in slow march play.
A comrade’s fallen by the way,
And now we say goodbye.

This hero to the very end
Was more than just a casual friend,
Who would a stranger’s life defend,
And now we say goodbye

But we shall cherish, all our days,
The character this life portrayed
With sacrifice so freely made,
And now we say goodbye.

The hand salute, o’er Stars and Stripes,
And distant skirl of highland pipes,
Bid last farewell with hero’s rights,
And now we say goodbye.

While here on Earth, you gave your best.
Now in the Master’s arms you rest.
T’is by your memory we are blessed.
And now we say goodbye.

Dear PFC Frankie Vargas, Thank you for your service as a Light Vehicle Driver. The 57th anniversary of the start of your tour is soon. Saying thank you isn't enough, but it is from the heart . Autumn begins today. Time passes quickly. Please watch over America, it still needs your strength, courage, guidance and faithfulness, especially now. Rest in peace with the angels.

Frankie is buried at Fort Logan National Cemetery. PH

Dear PFC Frankie Leyba Vargas, sir

As an American, I would like to thank you for your service and for your sacrifice made on behalf of our wonderful country. The youth of today could gain much by learning of heroes such as yourself, men and women whose courage and heart can never be questioned.

May God allow you to read this, and may He allow me to someday shake your hand when I get to Heaven to personally thank you. May he also allow my father to find you and shake your hand now to say thank you; for America, and for those who love you.

With respect, and the best salute a civilian can muster for you, Sir

Curt Carter

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Mary Frye – 1932