Retired corporal Kate MacEachern takes a break at Kate’s Café in Ballantynes Cove, N.S. [Annie Bowers]
Retired corporal Kate MacEachern understands the true meaning of service. To the Ballantynes Cove, N.S., native, it meant joining the Canadian Armed Forces in 2005, training as a tanker with Lord Strathcona’s Horse (Royal Canadians) until an accident left her with critical head and spinal cord injuries that transformed her military career. Her service, however, continued through to her medical release in 2014, although not even discharge papers could end her dedication to the uniform.
MacEachern has since carried out three charitable walks across large swaths of the country, amounting to more than 5,000 kilometres trekked—all to raise awareness of post-traumatic stress, something she has dealt with herself. In doing so, she has also collected over $100,000 for various military charities and similar institutions.
More recently, in the wake of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, her service has transcended borders in co-founding The Canada Way, a non-governmental group that distributes crucial humanitarian aid to those entangled in Putin’s war. The organization has delivered 290 tonnes thus far.
MacEachern’s latest service is to her community and veterans alike, having opened a café and general store near Antigonish, N.S. There, in yet another salute, she will soon have shelves laden with products from former comrades who, like her, have served.
MacEachern spoke to Legion Magazine about her exploits, past and present.
About joining the CAF
I always felt drawn to the military or coast guard going through high school. While I didn’t have any direct relatives in the military, at least for a couple of generations, my family were first responders, so I had an understanding of service in that sense. Yet life happened, as it often does, and I went to Nova Scotia Community College for welding fabrication. I was in a relationship for a number of years, and I ended up having a son. But, I then became a single parent, and when he was about nine months old, I realized I could give him a better life [by joining the military].
My father and sister took care of him while I was in basic training. As soon as I graduated from both programs, I got posted to Edmonton [with Lord Strathcona’s Horse (Royal Canadians)]. Being a tanker had never been on my radar—it wasn’t something I necessarily chose, but I guess the universe said, ‘hey, you’re a tanker.’
They gave us the option of being in the mounted troop, which is horses, ceremonial duty, the whole nine yards, and I was like, ‘you’ll pay us to ride horses?’ I’m down with that. It was an amazing period of time, but then I had an unfortunate accident.
I broke my neck and back and fractured my skull. I also had a brain bleed. There’s no halfway with me—if I’m going to do something, I guarantee you it’ll be all out. The recovery was really horrific. What I will say is I had the most supportive unit that pushed me hard, if not harder than me, to get me back to fighting form. But, I had no idea the paperwork was going to catch up with me because of the seizures.
I was medically released [in 2014], but I decided I wasn’t quite done with service.
Kate and Tyler MacEachern walk the Trans-Canada Highway during a leg of her post-traumatic stress awareness journey from Nipawin, Sask., to Chilliwack, B.C. [courtesy of Kate MacEachern]
About her cross-country charitable walks
Everybody says, ‘You don’t wake up and decide to walk thousands of kilometres.’
I kind of did—with a little help from my now-late grandmother, who inspired me. I needed to help people, not just veterans and first responders, but regular people living with post-traumatic stress who don’t realize that recovery is possible, that sometimes, all you truly need to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other. What better way to show people what a journey looks like than to get out there, throw caution to the wind, and let people see what it’s like to carry that weight?
It’s the first couple of kilometres a day that really suck. But, you then just sink into your own head and start thinking about reaching the next kilometre, getting to the next telephone pole, or whatever it is. And before you realize it, you’ve hit 40 kilometres.
On that last walk [a 2,700-kilometre trek from Nipawin, Sask., to Chilliwack, B.C., via Edmonton and other stops], my then-11-year-old son very maturely asked if he could come with me, but I was reluctant to let him for multiple reasons. But that’s when Tyler asked me if he could do just some of the trip, and I relented. One day came up, probably six or seven days in for Tyler, when it became obvious he was tanking. He had blisters on his feet and it just started raining on us, making everything so much worse. I told him to get into the [support] truck. But, Tyler just kept his head down and kept walking with his backpack. Now, keep in mind that I had 60 pounds in mine [alongside wearing full uniform]. He had a teddy bear and snacks, but here he was, walking the Trans-Canada Highway, just refusing to quit.
I decided enough was enough. That’s when I insisted he get in the truck.
Five minutes go by, and he runs up beside me. That’s when I say, ‘Tyler, what are you doing?’ And he’s like, ‘Mom, you’re trying to teach people that quitting isn’t an option—that you have to keep going, step by step. Who am I to just quit when my feet hurt?’ Absolute dead silence—I probably cried for the next 11 kilometres.
Kate MacEachern works inside one of The Canada Way’s storage units in Kharkiv, Ukraine. [courtesy of Kate MacEachern]
About her humanitarian work in Ukraine
When I first went to Ukraine, I wasn’t going as a humanitarian. I was going as a fighter.
When [Ukrainian President Volodymyr] Zelenskyy made his plea [for volunteers], it resonated with me. Of course, I talked to Tyler about it at the time, as he was still waiting for the call to attend basic training [having enlisted in the CAF]. Initially, he was like, ‘no, no, no.’ But we reached an agreement to wait until he got that call—because I obviously wasn’t going to go until I knew he was safely there—to further discuss it. When that time came, we made a deal and he relented. And he was like, ‘Okay, you really need to learn how to be a normal mom—to knit and drink wine.’
I had done my application and submitted my papers. The last thing I needed to do was physically cross the border and sign the dotted line. What actually happened was I got into Poland before arriving at one of the evacuation centres that was a hub for humanitarian aid and international fighters. It was a total game-changer.
Unofficially, I co-founded The Canada Way [alongside Mount Pearl, N.L., veteran Stephen Viscount] two or three days after that. Officially, it was around two weeks.
We’ve had months at a time where we’ve actually slept in our vans because we are self-funded—we’re not in anybody’s pocket—so we save money wherever we can.
You wake up at o-dark-stupid and, having done all of the logistics the night before, you could drive for what feels like forever, sometimes 13- to 14-hour journeys one way, before unloading all the aid. You then basically have to turn and burn as fast as possible back to the warehouse, where you begin the logistics for the next run.
The Ukrainian people have unrelenting strength. They are what I would consider the epitome of a dandelion. You may have a pile of rocks in a corner somewhere, but dandelions will still grow, still thrive. Ukrainians are still standing amid such adversity, amid such oppression. I’ve met families, people, even children whose unbelievable strength I’m completely in awe of. It’s beyond words, to be honest.
About Kate’s Café
The idea [of operating a store] kind of started in childhood before being tied into adulthood. As children growing up down here [in Ballantynes Cove], we used to have juvenile conversations about it being a cool idea if it ever happened. But it was during the last couple of trips to Ukraine that I realized I could do so much more for first responder and veteran organizations and charities back in Canada.
I’m extremely community-minded. We’ve been through so much here, whether it be [Hurricane] Fiona or the COVID-19 pandemic. And last year, I just decided I’d take the plunge and apply for a business licence, and so now, here we finally are, stocking products from numerous veteran- and first responder-based companies, whether that’s candy or coffee. Even my radio station is a first responder station.
It may be just a small thing, but its heart is much bigger than the building.
This abridged interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.
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