At 22, Jessica Haffner stood in the dust of Camp Bondsteel, Kosovo, watching a convoy roll in when a Marine stepped out—and she recognized him instantly.
Her older brother had arrived in the same war zone where she was stationed. Two siblings from rural Washington, reunited by chance amid an active conflict, rifles slung and alarms still echoing.
Today, Haffner is in Spokane, Washington, helping construction teams through Bluebeam workflows. On the surface, the two moments couldn’t be further apart. But both hinge on the same lesson: resilience, gratitude and understanding that everyone carries unseen battles.
For Haffner, the mission didn’t end when the uniform came off. It just shifted.
From College Uncertainty to the Army
Haffner had raced ahead in school, finishing her associate degree through Washington’s Running Start program while her classmates were still in high school. By winter of 1998-99, she was between quarters, unsure of her path and out of tuition money.
The Army’s offer was clear. “I enlisted in January of ’99 because the Army was offering $50,000 for college—and at 18, that sounded life-changing,” she said.
Military service ran in her family—grandfather, father, uncles, brother. But for a woman, it was still unusual. Enlisting felt both practical and daring, a leap anchored by tradition.
Driving Fuel Trucks, Guarding Gates, Gaining Perspective
As a petroleum supply specialist, Haffner hauled thousands of gallons of fuel across Germany, set up deployable tank farms and kept heavy equipment running. The work was critical, demanding precision and calm.
Then came Kosovo. Assigned to the Big Red One, one of only a handful of women in a combat-ready unit of more than 1,000 men. Much of her deployment meant guarding Camp Bondsteel’s gates, patting down local women and checking buses for explosives.
“One minute you’re driving fuel trucks through Germany, and the next you’re in Kosovo with a rifle on your shoulder, realizing how fragile everything really is,” she said.
The deployment also brought that improbable reunion with her brother, a reminder of both family ties and the unpredictability of war.
Finding Her Footing Back Home
Leaving the Army was a shock.
“I came home with hazmat certifications, a military CDL and four years of experience, and I still couldn’t get a job. That was a wake-up call,” she said.
Haffner moved back in with her mom, picked up odd jobs, groomed horses and saved while finishing her physics degree and later earning an MBA. Those lean years taught her humility, persistence and how to start over when the path forward isn’t obvious.
Lessons That Stick
Patience, resilience, empathy—Haffner leans on them daily. “Patience and perspective—those are the two things the Army gave me that I still use every single day,” she said.
Navigating male-dominated environments is familiar territory, whether in construction tech or combat units. And while some veterans miss rigid command structures, Haffner found freedom in ambiguity.
“I didn’t function well saluting bad ideas just because of rank,” she admits. That realization shapes how she approaches colleagues and customers—listening first, solving problems collaboratively and knowing when to trust her instincts.
Serving in New Ways
As an enterprise customer success manager at Bluebeam, Haffner applies the same mission-focused mindset that kept convoys moving. Instead of tankers, she now fuels projects, helping customers adopt technology, troubleshoot challenges and succeed.
Off the clock, her service continues. Earlier in her career, Haffner volunteered with Conservation Northwest, helping document wolf populations in the Selkirk Mountains. Today, she supports the Spokane Humane Society and leads community yoga through her Yoga in the Wild project, which combines hiking, meditation and yoga on local trails. With training in trauma-informed practices, she strives to make every class inclusive and welcoming, holding space for individuals who may carry experiences of trauma.
“Teaching yoga is one way I try to give back—to hold space for people carrying things you might never see,” she said.
Veterans Day Reflection
For Haffner, Veterans Day is personal. Her brother, a career Marine, has deployed four times and still gets the calls no one wants—news of Marines lost to suicide.
“Veterans Day reminds me that for many, the battle still isn’t over. My brother has buried Marines who died by suicide years after the war,” she said.
That reality shapes her outlook. Whether she’s answering a customer email, teaching her kids—a son, 15, and a daughter, 10—about service, or guiding a yoga class, Haffner carries the perspective forged in Kosovo: service doesn’t always wear a uniform. It evolves—into family, community and the quiet work that helps others move forward.
“The mission never really ends; it just changes shape,” she said. “Sometimes it’s a convoy. Sometimes it’s a customer call. Sometimes it’s holding space for someone who’s hurting.”
