A Fallen Hero: Sgt. 1st Class James D. Priestap
Kim Priestap

My husband, Steve, and I received some very sad news Thanksgiving evening. Steve's cousin, Army Sgt.1st Class James Priestap, was shot and killed by a terrorist sniper while working at a checkpoint near Baghdad. He was wearing body armor, but he hit was in the shoulder, and the bullet went into his heart killing him instantly.

Here's the AP story on his death:

IRON MOUNTAIN, Mich. (AP) -- A National Guard soldier from the Upper Peninsula was killed in Iraq on Thanksgiving Day, military authorities said.

Army Sgt. 1st Class James D. Priestap, 39, of Hardwood, was fatally shot while on duty at a checkpoint in Baghdad. He was assigned to the 46th Military Police Company in Kingsford.

Priestap was among 60 members of the unit, which was deployed to Iraq on July 9. They had trained in Fort Dix, N.J., for six weeks before heading to the combat zone.

"Jim was the type of guy that everybody liked," Mary Oman, a friend of Priestap's from Breitung Township in Dickinson County, told The Daily News of Iron Mountain for a Monday story. "He was a great guy to be around. You never saw him without a smile on his face." ...

We found out a couple of days after his death that he actually wasn't supposed to be at the checkpoint at the time, but the generator blew out. Apparently, two other guys were assigned to go out and restart it, but, since Jim was in charge of the platoon, he went out instead because he felt responsible for his men. It was then that he was shot. That was Jim, always putting the well-being of his men before himself. And helping others was what Jim was all about. After Hurricane Katrina devastated the gulf coast region, he traveled to New Orleans and spent a month there to help rebuild the area and assist those whose lives had been turned upside down.

Jim's father wrote this about him in an email which he sent to us shortly after Jim's death: ...

Hat tip: Blackfive

THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

Author unknown.