Eleven-year-old Zahra sits on a desk in a crowded corridor of a west Beirut school and explains why she believes in the need for resistance.
"All children now want to grow up to fight Israel. It's shameful how we are being treated. What have we as children ever done to them? Nobody cares what happens to us, nobody will do anything if we don't defend ourselves." Her friend Howra, also 11 and also a refugee from southern Lebanon now living in the school in Zarif, joins in. "Even if a thousand of our fighters are killed, we will remain strong. Even with the Israeli technology, we are not afraid of them; we have the strongest fighters in the world."
Estimates of the number of Hizbullah fighters active in the field range from 1,000 to 10,000, with a potential reserve force as high as 200,000. But the daily killing of civilians has created a new militancy among Lebanon's youth, suggesting that Hizbullah can now mobilise thousands more.
"We are ready to fight, we are ready to die, we are only waiting for Sayyed Hassan [ Nasrallah, Hizbullah leader] to give the word," says Ali from Bint Jbeil, sitting under a tree by a makeshift tent in Sanaya Gardens, one of Beirut's few parks, now a refugee camp.
Lebanon's Shias have borne the brunt of the Israeli onslaught and many of those driven out of the south are eager to return to defend their villages. But it is not just the poor, dispossessed Shias who are eager to fight: the new militancy now cuts across the class divide. "I have a good education, a good family, good friends, a career, a privileged home - but I am willing to give up all these things to live in dignity," says Hassan, from a wealthy Shia family.
He and his equally privileged friends, Firas and Mohammed, attend one of Lebanon's elite universities, and have the opportunity to work overseas. "We are all students in university, some of us have businesses, but we will give our lives to defend our country," says Mohammed, a 23-year-old political science student. Firas (22) nods in agreement. "You only have one thought in your head - how you are going to defend your country, how you are going to defeat Israel." Since the war began, the friends say, their perception of their lives has changed. "We are not thinking about material things any more. We are all willing to give up everything," Mohammed says.
The young men say they are willing to serve the resistance in any way they can. "If they [ Hizbullah] ask us to hold a gun, we will take up arms. If they ask us to deliver food, we will deliver food. We are just waiting for a signal," Firas says. In some cases the radicalisation has crossed religious lines. Daisy is a 34-year-old Christian who works in a bank in an upmarket district of Beirut. "I feel a great rage burning inside me," she says. "We are all the resistance now. They [ Hizbullah] are not doing this for Syria, they're not doing this for Iran, they are doing this for Lebanon." According to Mohammed, some of those keen to join the war have made it south and have been allowed to remain in their villages to defend them. "There is Hizbullah in the villages but there are others there as well. You can go back to your village and defend it if you can reach it, but Hizbullah will not allow you to accompany them on their operations."
Young women are among those eager to volunteer. Sitting with three friends in one of the Zarif school's empty classrooms recently converted into a women's prayer room, 21-year-old Sanine says: "As a woman I can help in many non-military ways. I can help the wounded; I can provide food and bring supplies. We all want to help in anyway we can."
Despite ideological differences, many young leftists are also now backing the fight against Israel. They see Hizbullah as filling the vacuum left by the largely ineffective Lebanese government and respect what they see as the dedication and competence of the fighters.
Samir, a 21-year-old journalism student and member of the Lebanese communist party, is helping to distribute supplies at the school in Zarif. "Every boy and man here longs to go and fight in the south. We will fight eventually."
Many of the young men who talk seriously about going to fight say they fear death - and the pain felt by the loved ones they might leave behind. But this is the sacrifice they are willing to make. "We love to live, but we love to live with our heads held high," says Mohammed as Israeli warplanes roar overhead.