British long-haul trucker says migrants trying to climb aboard are ‘no good, thieving scum’

For Vince Steptoe, every journey from mainland Europe to Britain starts with locks, security checks and then more locks. His favorite is the bulldog — a curved iron bar that he straps on the back doors of the vehicle, next to the padlock and the plastic tamperproof seal.

When Steptoe started out as a long-haul trucker 30 years ago, the locks were there to keep people from stealing his cargo. Now, they serve a different purpose, he says. They're there to keep people from becoming part of the cargo.

In recent months, British TV news has been filled with footage of crowds of young migrants prying open the back of trucks like Vince’s on the roads near the ports between Britain and France, and clambering inside. No one knows how many people have made it to the United Kingdom in this way, but thousands are believed to be trying every month. Around the French port of Calais, the closest point to southern England, there are several thousand people sleeping outdoors in makeshift camps, waiting for their chance to cross the border.

I joined Steptoe for a day travelling along this route, starting in Belgium and ending at British passport control in Calais, where the Channel Tunnel connects the two countries. For Steptoe, making sure that the locks hold is about more that protecting his vehicle, however. It is also about protecting his country. “That [the bulldog lock] is there to stop them.” he explains. “I’m on border patrol. I’m the last defense.” How does he feel about that? “Unarmed.”

Truckers like Steptoe say they are ignored by both sides in the debate over migration. Under the current rules, they can be personally fined up to £2,000 ($3,132) for every stowaway found in their vehicles, regardless of whether they were at fault, or whether the truck was adequately secured. “Nobody helps the truckers,” Steptoe tells me over breakfast at a café near the depot in Belgium, before we set off. “I want to get up in the morning and do my day's work. … I don’t want to have to be threatened or intimidated by anyone."

Although he himself has never been directly threatened by migrants, he says other drivers have experienced bricks being thrown through their windows, and bollards placed in the road to force drivers to stop. And he says the experience of watching large numbers of young men trying to enter his truck and those around him can be daunting. I ask him about the humanitarian argument — that many of these people have fled wars and violence, and deserve to be offered safety and shelter in Britain. He's not convinced. “If they are genuinely being victimized in their country, then fair enough. But why don’t they say ‘I would like to claim asylum.' Why don’t they do that? Why are they trying to clamber onto trucks?” He takes a sip of tea. “Because they are no good, thieving scum.”

For the first few hours of our journey, the flat Belgian landscape unfolds uneventually around us. Steptoe likes driving in Europe, he says, but he is not really a fan of France or Belgium in particular. You get good and bad people everywhere of course, but personally he wouldn’t live here. On journeys like this, he keeps his watch on British time from start to finish. Before we hit the French border, we pull in for a cigarette break at a gas station. Even this far from the coast, he does a quick check for stowaways under the chassis before getting back in. Probably not necessary, but a good habit he says. From here in, it’s not worth stopping anywhere because of the risk of picking up unwanted passengers.

Steptoe doesn't look the type to be easily intimidated. In the old days he used to be an amateur boxing coach; his knuckles are still inked with the faded letters L,O,V and E. But his real passion is work, and working hard he says. He left school at 14, and later took on punishingly long hours, doing jobs far from home in order to support his family. He was determined that his own son would do better. For the first 12 years of the boy’s life, Steptoe always pretended that he himself had been to university, to set an example. It worked. Now his son is obsessed with military history, particularly World War II. He has even read Hitler's Mein Kampf, though Steptoe thinks he would be better off studying Winston Churchill. 

Britain’s immigration problem go back to history, Steptoe says. Traditionally, we have always been a nation of migrants, but something has gone wrong now. The British have gone soft. The welfare system rewards those who have never worked, at the expense of people who have paid in all their lives, he adds. That is what is drawing people to Calais. “I don't mind those that work. Fair enough. But the rest of them? We're full up!" he says, adding it may be time for a harsher solution. Perhaps the British government needs to make an example to deter people. "We need to get tough. If necessary, we should be shooting a few. That would put a stop to it."

We enter France, and begin to near the coast. As Steptoe talks, we pass one boarded-up truckers’ rest point after another. For miles around the coast, French police have closed truckers' service stations, because they're too vulnerable to migrants. Steptoe keeps a supply of water in the cabin instead. As we enter Calais, the traffic is moving fast, and there are only few of the sad young men sitting in small groups by the side of the road. No groups prying open vehicles. Most look exhausted, tired, even defeated. A scrubby wasteland marks the spot where the French police bulldozed a small encampment. New, taller fences are being constructed along the way. Finally, we pass through the last line of razor wire, and into British passport control. A sniffer dog does a circuit of the van, and British border control eyeballs us and our passports. 

Technically, we have migrated back to Britain. Steptoe's locks have held.