For much of last week I was reporting from the Polish-Ukrainian border and I’m actually writing to you from Poland now. I’ve reported around the world on any number of astonishing and heartbreaking stories, both in my legal career and while making TV documentaries. In that time, I’ve seen too many instances of man’s inhumanity to man. But it’s still been extraordinary (there are many other words) to be here and observe the consequences of this terrible conflict — one where the difference between right and wrong is so clearly drawn.
I stood in PrzemyÅl’s station — the first stop between Ukraine and Poland — and watched the trains arrive. Less than a month ago, this was an ordinary journey with an easy border crossing. But now, that same train carries wave upon wave of desperate refugees, scrambling toward safety. It was humbling to see those crowds — mothers and babies, the elderly, the sick and the shattered — facing an unknown future.
But alongside that, it’s been overwhelming to see human goodness shining through.
I went to a makeshift arrivals hall in an ex-Tesco superstore where the flags of several nations were fluttering, all offering help. In fact, many countries offer specific desks with volunteers assisting to get people to safety. Shockingly, the UK isn’t offering anything of the kind. It’s dreadful. There was no sign of a Union Jack there until an NGO (the Ukrainian Medical Association of the UK) put one up themselves.There doesn’t seem to be genuine political will behind getting Home Office staff to help the suffering complete the indefensible levels of paperwork required to obtain sanctuary in our nation, where more than 150,000 people (tens of thousands of them Londoners) have offered their homes.
It’s plainly outrageous it’s not being done already by the Government because I’ve seen the generosity of the British people here again and again: from Sikh communities delivering food and advice, to off-duty policemen travelling down from Scotland to give any support they can, to ambulance workers (Craig and Gary from Kent) driving 30 hours to bring nappies, buggies and cots. I’ve met Mike, an ex-British army medic, who has been training Ukrainian forces in how to treat battlefield trauma and Luke, ex British forces, who’d been awake for 48 hours helping crossings.
These little boats of kindness in a sea of tragedy made me feel incredibly proud to be British. It’s the finest Dunkirk spirit in action.
Because for every act of horror, there are countless instances of humanity. And even in our darkest times, there are always plenty of people fighting to preserve the light. To quote Pollyanna: “When you look for the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When you know you will find the good — you will get that.”
In other news...
When I told a friend that I was considering getting another tattoo, he groaned with real disapproval. Tattoos, he said, “bring out my internal Jewish mother”. Well, I don’t care.
I’ve got a handful scattered about my body; most done for sentimental reasons and one a questionable impulse purchase (inked when I was 20 in a place they don’t let you show on TV). I love them all. But I feel like it’s time for another — something a bit more modern. Perhaps the metaverse (whatever that is) across my chest, and some Wordles on my biceps. Or Taron Egerton holding a judge’s gavel (I’ll have to find somewhere appropriate). It’ll be a right old laugh watching them jiggle when I’m 90. Any other suggestions very welcome …
