At last count, 423 unaccompanied children were living in the Jungle camp in Calais.
I have spoken with a number of them on my trips in recent months. Many had reached the camp by themselves; they had been orphaned, separated en route, or sent away by their parents who had paid traffickers. Some I talked to were as young as ten.
These are some of the lost children of Europe; officially, they don't exist.
On Friday, the French government's plan to clear part of the Jungle was approved by the courts. While authorities say around 1000 people will be affected, aid agencies put the figure far higher.
Volunteers in the makeshift women and children's centre in the camp do their best to look after the unaccompanied minors, but there are no NGOs working with them. The UN High Commissioner for Refugees has not contacted the centre and neither have government officials.
Conditions in the camp are harsh. I cannot imagine my teen living there. It is cold and wet; the only thing keeping people fed and clothed adequately is the huge volunteer effort. I saw little children playing in waste pits contaminated with industrial waste and human excrement. Sickness spreads quickly through the camp - a measles outbreak was only just averted because Médecins Sans Frontières moved swiftly to run a vaccination programme.
There are frequently clashes between the CRS riot police and a small number of frustrated migrants. They throw stones; the CRS retaliate with tear gas and rubber bullets fired far into the camp. The tear gas floats amongst the family tents, choking the sleeping inhabitants at night. In the Calais Jungle, it seems that human rights do not apply. However, the camp does offer a degree of protection that will now disappear as a result of the eviction order issued to the southern half of the camp. The fear is that they will disperse into many smaller camps across northern France.
I thought Calais was terrible. Then I went to Dunkirk. The camp at Grand Synthe is a living hell. Around 2500 people live there, including many families with young children and small babies. No structures are allowed; tents and wooden pallets have to be snuck in. The mud is indescribable, thick and Somme-like. Inside the tents we saw children sleeping on pallets slowly sinking into the swamp.
In Dunkirk, I helped in a little school for the afternoon. It sees around 30-40 children each week. It consists of an army-type tent, open at the ends, and a floor made of pallets that float on top of the mud. Everything is covered with a layer of dirt. Paper gets damp too quickly and it is impossible to look after resources there, so the small number of amazing teachers who run it - I met British and French people - have to rely on their ingenuity and resilience. The children were wonderful; I was helping six year olds learn their numbers. In all of that mud, damp and cold, wrapped up in coats, chests rattling from infections, they still smiled and laughed and tried to teach me Kurdish.
There is some hope for the Dunkirk children. A new camp is being built by Médecins Sans Frontières. For those who are able to move to it, the conditions will be much better. The Brighton Build shelter project, Hummingbird project and Brighton Bridge are working together to create a new school and family centre in the camp, which you can support here.
This is the humanitarian side of this crisis, which must be acknowledged. I am not looking at politics, I am looking at people – and they need our help.