THE WALL OF FACES

Charles is buried at Ft Sam Houston Nat Cem.

Rest in peace with the warriors.

It is said a man hasn't died as long as he is remembered. This prayer is a way for families, friends and fellow veterans to remember our fallen brothers and sisters. 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 sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight, I am the stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die

So very few know that L.Cpl. Charlie Castillo, never got to hold his newborn, baby boy, now a grown man. They do not know that Charlie's Father and his Uncle David were disabled veterans; Paraplegics confined to wheel chairs because of devastating wounds inflicted upon them by enemies in that other Asian war, called Korea. That Charlie's younger and only brother, Jesse, later joined the Army and retired honorably as a Msg Sargent. That Charlie left two sisters that miss their brother deeply. I have known Jesse and his Family for over 37 years, and I have never, ever heard them complain about their patriotic chore.

For many years when I entered the Castillo home, and that was often, their was a picture of Charlie in his fatigues with his helmet on. It was prominently displayed on a beautiful shelf. Next to his picture was a printed citation and a Purple Heart. And of course, every mother and father's symbol of sorrow, a neatly folded American Flag. What I remember most though, was that picture. The first time I saw that picture it was 1967. I was 13 years old. I recall just staring at it and thinking to myself, this is the toughest looking guy I have ever seen. Their must be a mistake. This guy is invincible. Surely he will come walking up some day. Such are the fantasies of an adolescent boy. Three or four years later, I was waiting for Jesse and as usual looking at Charlie's picture, when Mrs. Castillo unexpectedly walked in. I was embarrassed. She sensed my uneasiness, and with a gentle voice began to talk about Charlie. I don't recall exactly what all we said, but I remember telling her how much Charlie and Jesse looked just alike. She grinned with a proud mother's smile. That smile that a mother gets when someone compliments her on her children. Somehow, in spite of her deeply private pain, in that one moment she made me feel okay about wanting to understand. She was a wise one, that Mrs. Castillo.

Many years have passed, but our collective obligation to honor Charlie's memory has not. His brother and I will continue our quest to understand his sacrifice at Con Thien on September 21, 1967. We will study it, and we will learn from it. We will ask tough questions if we have to. And, with earnest hope, we will gently close this chapter in history and smile when we think of him.

I thank the Castillo family for their sacrifice, and their courage. I thank you Jesse for your 20 years of service to our Nation. And most of all, I thank you, L. Cpl. Charles Mike Castillo, for what you gave our Nation, your last full measure of devotion.

Sincerely and Respectfully,

Mark Faucett
January 25, 2004

Thank you for your service and your sacrifice L.Cpl. Charles Mike Castillo.