They didn’t want their faces photographed because it was too risky. The father told us his story in Arabic with a kind volunteer interpreter helping out. There were three children who were clearly very tired. The lovely twelve year old daughter spoke some English, enough to say that her mother was still in Syria. The father looked haggard and shellshocked and I wondered if he was protecting the children from some terrible knowledge. They were cold and fearful. They were making their way to “Allemania” but realised that they would not be welcome but there was no choice but to press on. I returned to the station later with some warm cast-offs and the family was still sitting on the same stone step. The girl seemed to be trying to sleep but she was crying in quiet despair. There are thousands of people like this. What are we going to do?