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Some water and some biscuits, it's all I own in the world - the desperate bids for refuge in Europe -

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LEIGH SALES, PRESENTER: This morning, the horror of the refugee crisis that's gripping Europe took on a new face: that of a three-year-old boy.

Pictures of him lying dead on a beach after his family tried to flee to safety went viral all over the world.

Hundreds of thousands of people are seeking safety and shelter in Europe, but they're confronting mounting resistance and policy confusion as they pour through the Continent's borders.

The European President has called an emergency summit in an attempt to find an adequate solution, but in the meantime on the ground, there's a rising tide of anger and desperation.

In a moment we'll have an interview with the United Nations Refugee Agency to explain why this is going on right now, but first, Europe correspondent Phil Williams filed this report from the Serbia-Hungary border.

PHILIP WILLIAMS, REPORTER: The small boy found on the sand, a tragic symbol of the crisis and the desperation.

Those that do make it to Europe start arriving from early in the morning. Just a few, then many.

Hundreds become thousands following the railway line that leads from Serbia to Hungary. And hopefully, a new start in places like Germany. But they are being stopped at countries along the way.

The razor wire marks the border, 175 kilometres of it, designed to keep people out of Hungary. But there's a gap along the railway.

AMJAD ALMANYER, REFUGEE: Can you tell me where are we now?

PHILIP WILLIAMS: You're in Hungary.


PHILIP WILLIAMS: Yes, you've made it across the border, just down there.

AMJAD ALMANYER: I didn't know it.



PHILIP WILLIAMS: So you're 100 metres into Hungary.

AMJAD ALMANYER: Should I go back or should I ... ? Don't know what to do.

PHILIP WILLIAMS: Tell me, how far have you walked today?

AMJAD ALMANYER: I have been walking for four hours, I think, under the sun. It's very tired. I'm very tired.

PHILIP WILLIAMS: Amjad Almanyer used to be an accountant in Syria and came from a wealthy family, but the war changed everything and now he hopes Germany will welcome him.

AMJAD ALMANYER: Of course my work has gone, my father's factory has gone - everything. We have lost almost everything. We were rich - we were rich in our country, but when we - when the war started, we almost lost everything.

PHILIP WILLIAMS: And now, what do you have?

AMJAD ALMANYER: Some water. Some water and some biscuits.

PHILIP WILLIAMS: That's all you own in the world?

AMJAD ALMANYER: Unfortunately, yes. Don't make me cry. (Laughs) It's a bad situation, but a new start is what I want.

PHILIP WILLIAMS: A few hundred metres from the border, the Hungarian police have set up a reception post of sorts. New arrivals are given water and food and corralled under precious shade. It's 38 degrees.

As the local farmers prepare for their summer harvest, Hungarian authorities count theirs. From here, they're bussed to a containment camp. Double layers of fencing and baton-wielding police guarding against escape. They're photographed and fingerprinted, an unwelcome process that has many scared.

Back on the border, word has spread. Increasing numbers are diverting off the train track to try and avoid a registration process they fear could leave them stuck in Hungary.

REFUGEE: There's a lot of police, Hungarian police stay in the border. I don't want to make a complaint, because Hungary, I think it's not my best decision. So I just look at the street and to plan at night what we have to do to cross the border without fingerprint.

PHILIP WILLIAMS: But for many, hiding from the police just isn't an option. Everyone here has overcome enormous hurdles. But for some, every step means pain, hundreds of thousands of them and in searing heat.

It's an incredibly difficult journey too for families with young children, like Alun from Iraq, his baby daughter, unaware she's part of an historic migration, the likes of which Europe has not seen for 70 years.

ALUN, REFUGEE: This is very difficult because baby. I have four children, baby. It's just very, very difficult.

PHILIP WILLIAMS: Alun and his family have one of the most difficult journeys of all, hoping to join his father who lives in Finland. Six countries to go, 12 borders to cross. But first, they have to make it through Hungary.

Outside one of Budapest's main train stations, a confrontation between a backlog of migrants wanting to leave Hungary and police under orders to stop them getting on trains out of the country.

PROTESTOR: You are human, we are human! You have kids, we have kids! You are educated, we are educated!

PHILIP WILLIAMS: It's the latest in a series of policy muddles. As each country tries to find its own solutions, a clear, coherent Europe-wide policy is nowhere to be seen.

Last week, these people were allowed to stay in the station. Many had tickets to leave. Then they were told they were not allowed on the trains. And now, chaos. No way out of Hungary, the Government doesn't want them, they don't want to stay, but they're stuck with each other.

Every hour of every day, more make the same journey. Asylum seekers, economic migrants, all drawn to places most have never been, hoping for safety, acceptance and the chance of a new life. A struggle too for countries like Hungary, unable to cope with the sheer scale of this mass movement of humanity.