My Reform-voting hometown hired £150,000 migrant security – it’s a waste of money

I’m sitting at the bus stop opposite the old Blockbuster in Chelmsford town centre. In the late 1990s, my sister and I would spend Friday nights inside picking out a film and overpriced popcorn. Today, 30 years later, it’s long gone – along with the nearby Argos and Iceland – and I’m instead waiting for a bus. It’s not a bus that I need to get on, nor is it displayed on the electronic arrivals board, but it is nevertheless well known among locals. These unmarked minibuses are the transportation for asylum seekers living in Home Office accommodation at Wethersfield airfield, in the Essex countryside 20 miles north of Chelmsford. The site has been housing male migrants since July 2023 but in June this year, the capacity was increased from 800 beds to 1,245 on a permanent basis. Residents are not detained so buses permit them to come into town to access services they don’t have on the base. Chelmsford is my hometown. I went to school here and now live in another town nearby. It still feels familiar but it has changed. To me, the most obvious signs are the high street full of boarded-up shops, the disappearance of our favourite nightclubs, the replacement of grand department stores with pound shops, and the giant XL- bully-type dogs that are inexplicably everywhere. It is also more diverse than it was — but for somewhere that was 94 per cent white in 2011 (now 89 per cent white) that’s really not hard to do. It is still Brexit-voting conservative middle England (Tory MP Simon Burns had this seat from 1987 to 2017, only to be replaced by another Tory and then a Lib Dem in 2024). Shorts In the last few years, the buses have come up in conversation with family and friends (who have a range of political views). One family member told me he’d been unsettled by them: “It’s effectively at the end of my road, the route we walk our son to school, and my wife walks to work.” He says a woman he knows was surrounded by four of the men and followed to her gym. “It felt quite close to home.” Others are utterly unbothered — friends who live near the centre of town say there are many other “important (and real) issues to tackle like the rising number of homeless people”. But now the newly-elected Reform UK council has seized the bus issue and decided action needs to be taken. * On the warm September day I’m at the bus stop, there are around 30 men of various ages waiting to be taken back to Wethersfield. They cluster in small groups of two or three, some texting and chatting. Others are finishing a takeaway pizza. One appears to have bought a wheelie suitcase. Another has a small Primark shopping bag. Asylum seekers are eligible for £9.95 a week if their accommodation provides meals, or £49 per week if not, which is loaded onto a debit card. It’s late afternoon and a few members of the public come and go without any interaction with the men. They seem to keep themselves to themselves. I approach some but they’re not keen to talk; understandable given the reception they get here is often negative. The buses have become a flashpoint for rage: videos posted in Facebook groups like “Stop The Wethersfield Buses” show confrontations between locals, the men and bus drivers (who sometimes cover their faces). Protestors tell them bluntly: “Don’t unpack cause you’re going back.” The men from Wethersfield boarding the bus to be taken back in the evening (Photo: James Linsell Clark/SWNS) In the 10 years since Brexit, anti-migrant sentiment has been well documented across England. In particular, there is disagreement over how those seeking asylum here should be treated and housed. But what might have once just been anger posted online, or threaded into political discourse, is increasingly translating to offline action. Last week, protestors blocked roads in Gosport, Hampshire, after reports suggested small boats were coming ashore there (in the end 51 migrants arrived in Dover). And rightwing protester Danny Tommo was arrested for appearing to slash a dingy in the Channel with a knife, while a French coastguard official was on board. In Piddington, Oxfordshire, villagers held a symbolic referendum over plans to house asylum seekers nearby. A total of 285 people voted in favour, while 26 voted against. Now residents of Barnham in West Sussex and Crowborough in East Sussex are considering doing the same. In Chelmsford, this month the Reform-led council announced it would be spending £150,000 of taxpayer money on rolling out “Operation Vanguard”, which it described as “Essex County Council’s response to concerns around the presence of people from Wethersfield”. “It aims to help reassure residents and make them feel safe and secure in their town,” read the statement. The three-month scheme sees two “security operatives” dressed in red vests, deployed to Chelmsford, Braintree and Colchester (other nearby towns with similar bus issues) from 10am to 6pm, seven days a week. Employed by private security firm, My Local Bobby — which was directly awarded the council contract without a tendering process — the two operatives are not able to arrest nor stop and search. On a council FAQ page it states: “My Local Bobby operatives have no police powers and no more powers than any member of the public.” Ben (left) and Jake (right), the two ‘security operatives’ on patrol for Operation Vanguard (Photo: James Linsell Clark/SWNS) On Friday, Prime Minister Andy Burnham said he wanted the council to “put evidence on the table” to justify why it was running the scheme. He said it was “highly unusual” and that the police should be dealing with such issues, not “taking the law into their own hands”. Council leader Peter Harris previously said the decision had been made because “concerns for community safety are clearly there, particularly among women and girls, because of the daily gatherings of asylum seekers”. Reform says that there are as many as 17 minibuses running between Wethersfield and the three towns each day. “We are not prepared to sit on our hands and wait for the next incident. We are taking action,” said Cllr Harris. According to Essex Police, in the three years since Wethersfield opened there have been 15 reported offences across the whole county where the suspect was identified as, or alleged to be, someone from Wethersfield, and the victim was a member of the public. Of those, five were in Chelmsford. In 2026 so far, police have made 23 arrests related to Wethersfield, with 14 of those relating to incidents happening on the site, and the majority between residents. Overall, crime levels in Essex have dropped. Some residents said the men gathering made them uncomfortable; others said ‘they’re not causing any trouble’ and questioned whether private security was a good use of taxpayer money (Photo: James Linsell Clark/SWNS) In an era of difficult spending decisions for councils — Essex County Council increased council tax by 3.95 per cent in April 2026 — is this how people want to see this money spent? At the bus stop, I speak to 76-year-old Sue from Springfield, who tells me that she sees the buses regularly. “They’re here every time I get the bus. They’re not a problem. They’re not causing trouble. [Sometimes] when you’re sitting here in the pouring rain and their bus pulls up, you think ‘maybe I’ll catch a lift’. I don’t feel threatened by them at all. It’s a waste of money, there are other things Reform could be doing like [sorting out] young lads who ride on the pavements.” As Sue is talking, an elderly woman next to her cuts across our conversation saying that she had witnessed one of the men taking photographs of a young girl. “We were annoyed and told him off,” she says, before walking away. This is the sort of story that is regularly posted about in the online groups. The bus stop where the tensions have been flaring up (Photo: James Linsell Clark/SWNS) Also waiting is John*, 68, from Maldon, who — unlike Sue — felt that the scheme was needed but is sceptical it will work. “I do think people feel unsafe because of a cultural shift [in Britain], but two guys aren’t going to make a difference are they?” John admitted he hadn’t seen the buses himself but had broader reservations about migration based on content he’d seen online and on TV. “I’m not trying to be unfair or callous but when I see mainly young blokes… and what I want the [government] can’t afford to pay for but army bases and guys in red vests they can.” He described migrants as a “total sponge” on resources. When asked if he’d support them once they could legally work, he said there weren’t enough jobs in the UK. He worried for his grandchildren about their employment opportunities and access to housing (he says his grandchildren are “blind” to the issue of migrants). “They’ll be a forgotten chunk of people,” he said. In the last election John abstained from voting — no parties appealed. It’s clear there is anger and political dissatisfaction bubbling away here (a younger man on a bike passes us and shouts that he supports Tommy Robinson). But no one I meet — whether critical or supportive of the buses — believes this scheme is the answer. Even my family member called it a “standard political move… a token gesture” that he thought would make headlines but nothing more. Union Jack stickers were fixed to the ‘My Local Bobby’ patrol uniform (Photo: James Linsell Clark/SWNS) During my day, I do come across the two-man security patrol, Jake and Ben (they weren’t present for bus pickup). They said the week had been “really positive” but when probed about the buses were keen to stress their purpose is about being a “visible presence” and wouldn’t comment more specifically. It seemed that they saw themselves more akin to old-fashioned neighbourhood policing than bus monitors (the disappearance of policing on our streets and station closure is a different but important issue). An incident log of the scheme’s first week in Chelmsford, shared with The i Paper, seemed to confirm this. They were involved in one public safety concern, one shoplifting incident, one anti-social behaviour case regarding public drunkenness and one report of a suspicious vehicle. The council did not state whether any of these incidents were related to Wethersfield residents. A spokesperson said: “They haven’t been deployed to address one specific issue, but it’s the specific issue of these buses that led to the decision to increase a general policing presence.” * In an era of extreme political division, it’s clear that many towns and villages are trying to take asylum policy into their own hands; through protest, referendum, or men in red vests. Whether these steps are able to actually effect change, or are more about channeling people’s fears and rage into optics and show trials, is debatable. I’m reminded of a favourite historical fact about Chelmsford: in the 1500s, there were 473 witch trials here, more than anywhere else in the country. For the next 12 weeks, the Reform council will be hoping Operation Vanguard can live up to its name (although hopefully with fewer military connotations) and become an example of what local government can do to show residents they are on their side. That they get it. Sophie Gallagher did not feel intimidated by the men at the bus stop. Crime in Essex is down (Photo: James Linsell Clark/SWNS) I’m not surprised that this has happened in a town like Chelmsford but it feels a damning reflection of the times we’re living in. I don’t disagree with the men being housed at the base nor them coming into town; the men I saw largely ignored me; one smiled. And on a dark winter’s evening any potential intimidation I’d have felt would be equal to that posed by 30 British men stood on a street corner. But what I wasn’t expecting was that even those who dislike the buses – the very people the council is presumably hoping to placate – were disillusioned and feel it’s money poorly spent. Perhaps that’s something we can all agree on. *Some names have been changed.