Veterans Day reflections: Jack and Sydney Hessenthaler

This week I had the chance to sit down with a pair of old friends, Jack and Sydney Hessenthaler, to talk about what Veterans Day means to them and to reflect on the challenges they faced during the Vietnam War era.

One thing we don’t often think about enough on Veterans Day is the effect war has on those back home, the parents, spouses and children who sacrifice and struggle in their own quiet but deeply profound ways.

Both Jack and Sydney grew up in Byron families marked by military service.

“Both our fathers were in World War II,” Jack said. “Both got wounded in the Pacific.”

Those men, along with others like Coach Bob Doerr and Harold Hopkinson became men he looked up to.

“They were my heroes,” he said simply. “But they never acted like it. My dad did not like to even talk about his service.”

Jack was drafted in 1969 and did his training at Fort Lewis, Washington, and Fort Benning, Georgia, before deploying. In the midst of all that, Jack and Sydney were married, bringing her into the stresses and challenges of being a military spouse. Long before email and instant communication, they did their best to stay connected and endure the separation.

He arrived in Vietnam in January 1970, serving first with a reconnaissance platoon before moving into what was called the jump tactical operation center, or TOC.

“Back then radios had to stay fairly close to where the troops were working,” he explained. “So they’d set up these little tactical operation centers out in the field.”

He later transferred to what soldiers called “the rat patrol,” traveling Highway 1 in a pair of jeeps mounted with machine guns. “Then our unit got pulled out of Vietnam, and I was reassigned,” he said. After 10 months in-country, he made the cutoff to go home early.

“I barely made it,” he said with a smile.

Sydney remembers those same years with deep emotion.

“Jack wants to play down some of what was going on over there,” she said. “But we feel like he was blessed several times. He’d get transferred, and the place he left would get hit hard.”

When Jack’s unit scheduled rest and recuperation in Hawaii, the couple planned to meet there to be sealed in the temple, but the orders were nearly canceled.

“Our colonel canceled all R&Rs,” Jack said. “We weren’t sure if I was going to make it.”

Sydney recalled waiting in Hawaii, unsure if he’d arrive.

“Things just seemed to work out,” she said. “He was blessed along the way.”

Their faith carried them through uncertain times.

“My dad’s first cousin lived over there, so I went a week ahead,” Sydney said. “Jack made it, and we were sealed in the temple. That was in September, and he still had two months left in Vietnam.”

Looking back, Jack says the memories of those years are mixed with gratitude and reflection.

“My dad actually died on Veterans Day,” he said quietly. “So, yeah, it brings back memories of both our dads.”

For both of them, the experiences of their parents’ generation and their own years around the Vietnam War shaped how they see service and sacrifice.

“Youth today need to realize that our freedom isn’t free,” Sydney said. “Someone’s giving their time, their life or their limbs. They’re sacrificing for us.”

Jack agrees that much has changed since his youth.

“When I was a kid, those veterans were my heroes,” he said. “But kids today, no, absolutely not. It’s a different world now.” Still, he believes many people try to honor those who serve. “Anybody I meet who knows I’m a veteran always says, ‘Thank you for your service.’”

The Hessenthalers talked about how the meaning of Veterans Day has evolved over the years.

“Back then,” Jack said, “it felt like everyone knew someone who had served -- a dad, an uncle, a neighbor. Today, fewer families have that direct connection.” Sydney added, “It’s more distant now. The world is different. But that doesn’t mean the sacrifice is any less real.”

When asked what they hope young people understand about the day, their answers came without hesitation.

“I think the youth should look at it as an honor to serve,” Jack said. “Some join for college or for benefits, but there’s more to it than that. It’s about being ready when your country needs you.”

Sydney nodded. “It’s a day to pause,” she said. “Not just to thank a veteran, but to really think about what their service cost them — and what it gave to us.”

Before we finished our conversation, Jack shared one more story, one that still chokes him up after all these years.

“My dad’s youngest brother wasn’t old enough to join until April of ’45,” he said. “He joined the Navy right at the end of the war. He spent two weeks on a ship when a kamikaze crashed into it and killed him. Right at the end of the war.” He paused for a long moment before continuing softly, “These memories are emotional to me. They really are.”

As I left their home, I couldn’t help but think about how much we owe people like Jack and Sydney, not just for what they endured, but for what they remember. Veterans Day is a chance to thank those who served, but it’s also a day to listen to the stories that still echo in families, in communities and in the hearts of those who quietly carry the weight of sacrifice.