As the sun rose over Dunkirk, I called the French police. Ten hours of tracking had established that a group of migrants were hiding in a cemetery just yards from the beach, waiting to cross the Channel. Surely this was the moment for the authorities to sweep the beach or search the streets to find the migrants and their smugglers? You know, to “smash the gang” I had found. “I will pass it on,” came the first response. I pressed - this was urgent. “The police will probably not come,” the 112 handler said, dismissively. No further details sought. No interest shown. I’d come to northern France to see for myself what is really happening as Channel crossings surge and communities back home bear the intolerable consequences of broken borders. Just me and a cameraman - no French minders, no protection. What I saw in the camps, streets, and beaches was sickening. The reality is worse than I have ever seen. The whole racket is a disgrace, and the French are aiding and abetting it. Take the camp near Loon-Plage: half a mile from tidy villages sits a lawless, dangerous space. Someone was shot dead there last month; stabbings are common. It is strewn with litter, ramshackle tents, and menace. Almost all the migrants are young men. They sit on the ground, scrolling their smartphones, waiting. No police. No officials. Those willing to speak were clear: they are coming to the UK for jobs, housing, benefits, and free healthcare. None said they were fleeing persecution - they are already in France. None had a trade or profession to offer. They will be a huge strain on already struggling UK public services. Some were polite; others threatened violence. One man pressed his face close, telling me to leave. Another began hurling glass bottles - one smashing beside me, another flying past my head. Do you want men like this in your community? I don’t. For saying this, I’ve been called a “xenophobe” on the BBC. But I doubt those levelling that smear have been to this camp, seen those men, and imagined them outside their children’s school gates. This is a national security emergency. And the French? We’ve given them £800m and get dismal theatre in return. They could stop this tomorrow. Instead, they stick two fingers up at Britain - and literally bus illegal migrants towards the beaches. That afternoon, I saw 40–50 migrants with lifejackets, marshalled by smugglers, walking along the railway. They headed to a public bus stop by a supermarket and boarded. Imagine that outside your local shop - lifejackets in hand, plain as day. Authorities know exactly what’s happening, yet facilitate it. We followed the bus into Dunkirk. The migrants walked towards the beach, one even in a wheelchair with a lifejacket on her lap. By nightfall, they were camped beside the cemetery. We checked on them through the undergrowth. A few hundred yards away, Dunkirk beach was empty of police or patrols, despite all the “special equipment” UK taxpayers fund. At dawn, they were gone. Their rubbish littered the ground. Binmen arrived to clean the mess up - but not the migrants. I rushed to the beach, convinced a launch was imminent, and called the police again. Still, nobody came. Sitting there, I felt anger at the French farce and shame at our own weakness. State visits, “landmark deals,” and hundreds of millions wasted. The French stop fewer boats than last year. Two thousand migrants have crossed in the last week alone. It’s all in plain sight. We are told this is “too complex” to fix. It isn’t. Change the law. Leave failed treaties. Deport illegal migrants. We are an island nation for goodness sake - we can end this. And end it we must.