At 19, Dvir Winternitz has taken his place in the conflict.

Dvir was inducted into the Israel Defense Forces in January. He was sworn in at an armory near Ashkelon that still bears the wounds of fighting in the 1948 war.

Before Israel's 1948 War of Independence, Ashkelon was an Arab village, Al-Jura, with about 2,500 people. In biblical times, it was a Philistine town best known as the birthplace of Herod the Great. The word Palestine derives from Philistine, and Ashkelon is only a few miles from the Gaza Strip, where the Palestinian youths the same age as Dvir fight despair and train for an uncertain future.

Every Israeli Jew -- women included, unless they are married with children -- is drafted into the armed forces at 18, usually for two years. Induction day is a rite of passage, as much of a milestone as a bar mitzvah or a wedding. College comes later, after military service.

Like others their age, Dvir and his brother Dan, 17, have spent their high-school years getting ready. They have chinned themselves a hundred-thousand times on the bar in their bedroom doorway, lifted barbells a hundred-thousand times to strengthen muscles for the military.

On the evening when Dvir and about 300 other teenagers were inducted, several thousand family members and friends crowded into an outdoor amphitheater at the armory. Many, including Miri Winternitz, dressed in purple or waved purple balloons. Purple is the color of the Gitani infantry unit their children were joining.

As the ceremony started, the blue and white Magen David flag of Israel was raised to wave in the soft January evening. A bugler blew a mournful call for those who have died for Israel's defense.

To the side of the amphitheater, a torch was lit, and flames 10 feet high suddenly licked the air, spelling out Israel's resolve in Hebrew letters. "Only those who are willing to fight will be free," the flames said.

As the air filled with smoke, the troops were called one by one to take their oaths and receive a Bible and a rifle.

The mothers of Israel dread this moment and revere it.

They served, too, of course -- Miri was in the Israeli military from 1968 to 1970. But it's different when it's their kids.

"He will swear his loyalty to Israel tonight and to sacrifice his life, if necessary, to defend and protect the homeland," she said, her voice gone husky. "As a mother, I don't like to think about that. But at the same time, it's very touching to me because I'm a very big Zionist. We love this country. It was dropped inside him from the beginning to be proud.

"But as a mother, I don't like it."

Many of Israel's draftees -- including most of the women -- become what Dvir derisively called "jobniks," working in the military bureaucracy or as guides at parks or museums.

Some are peacekeepers in the cities, lounging about street corners of Jerusalem or strolling the market in Tel Aviv in groups of six or eight, rifles slung over shoulders, searching the eyes of everyone who passes for signs of trouble.

When violence does strike, as it too often does, it is sudden and deadly. Last September, three nail-studded bombs apparently carried by suicide bombers ripped through a Jerusalem mall packed with shoppers and tourists, killing seven people and wounding 192. An Islamic militant group claimed responsibility.

Dvir did not want to guard shoppers and tourists against suicide bombers. He hoped that after training, including a grueling 60-mile wilderness march in full combat gear, he would be deployed to Southern Lebanon, Israel's frontlines these days. A security buffer zone was created there in 1985 after the Lebanon war.

"I don't feel what you'd call fear," he said, clutching his rifle in the back seat of the car as the family drove home after his induction. "For me, it's more the adrenaline and the adventure of it."

It is deadly adventure. Nearly 200 Israeli soldiers occupying southern Lebanon have been killed there fighting Hezbollah and other Islamist guerrilla groups; 39 were killed last year alone. Now, Netanyahu is sending strong signals he wants to withdraw, to stop the costly attrition.

A significant number of Israelis support such a withdrawal. Dvir isn't among them.

Americans probably can't fathom such a position, he said. "In the United States, you fight in Vietnam or Korea. But if you fail, the state would still exist. If we fail, we will vanish."

Yet, Dvir believes there will be peace in his lifetime.

"The secret is the economy," he said. "If people are well-fed, they won't fight wars. In Gaza, they don't have enough to feed their families. If we can provide them the means to work and build their economy, it will be a great step ahead for peace."