 The explosion of these bombs by the Mediterranean Sea shattered the Lebanese summer. On the 12th of July 2006, Hezbollah captured two Israeli soldiers. In a matter of hours, Israel launched a violent attack by air, land and sea. Hezbollah's reply was swift. From one day to the next, the Lebanese people were plunged into war. 800,000 people hit the roads, fleeing the bombardment of their villages in southern Lebanon and Hezbollah neighborhoods in south Beirut. They are in the direct line of fire. It's mass panic. No, no food, no milk, any sense. There is nothing. There's no one to take care of us. Our lives have been ripped apart. Gathered together in schools and parks, families are doing what they can to help each other. Food and water supplies are running out, and medicine is scarce. The bombing intensifies. Hundreds are killed and those who survive are cut off from the rest of the world. We don't know where our women and children are. We don't want to leave our land or our village. I went back to my house and it was totally destroyed. Despite Israel's air and naval blockade, the International Committee of the Red Cross and the Lebanese Red Cross are able to negotiate safe passage by boat and road to deliver aid. A perilous task. Our main problem has been ensuring the security and safety of the people we're helping and of ICRC staff. There have been a number of security incidents, despite keeping close contact with both sides in the conflict. It's been tough going and people have had difficulty getting to us. The first priority is to evacuate injured people to hospital and get food and other basic necessities to people sheltered in schools or stuck at home in villages near the border. Thousands of food rations, kitchen utensils, blankets, mattresses and toiletry kits are given out to nearly half a million people. We need everything. We need everything. But the most thing that we need is to be safe, to be alive. This is the best. And we need to live our lives. Stop bombing. The injured are streaming in from every region. The hospitals are overflowing. Medical staff desperately need surgical equipment, as well as vaccines, medicine and blood bank equipment. The number of fatalities continues to rise. 2,400 Lebanese Red Cross volunteers work around the clock. They evacuate more than 400 bodies and risk their lives transporting nearly 10,000 sick or injured people. Yes, we are at risk. Yes, when we drive there are too many bombs, it's around our ambulances, but it will not stop us to do this job. One volunteer has lost his life and several ambulances have been shot at. But work carries on. South of the Letani River, 22,000 people are trapped. I want to improve access as quickly as possible for the ICRC and for the people who need help. I'm extremely concerned by the lack of access, particularly to the injured people in some villages. And are you going on foot? We'll have to see, one way or another, I'll get there. It's a bold move, reminding the Israeli authorities and Hezbollah of respect for civilians during wartime and the vital humanitarian role played by the Red Cross. Bags of flour finally arrive at the bakery in Tyre. Destroyed roads and non-stop fighting have been major obstacles for humanitarian convoys. It's taken eight days for the first convoy to arrive in Tyre. Here everything has run out. We've been forced to close because of the war. We had no more fuel, no flour, sugar, yeast or salt, and off the shelf goods didn't exist. We were closed, but the Red Cross gave us some fuel, which is meant we can reopen. When the ceasefire is announced on the 14th of August, the Lebanese hurry back to their villages to find out what remains of their homes. According to the government, the damage is estimated at $3.6 billion. Infrastructure has been destroyed. There's no water or electricity. The ICRC provides nearly 100,000 litres of fuel and 1,200,000 litres of clean drinking water. 16 generators power medical centres and water pumping stations, like the one at Sadakine, which pumps 4,000 cubic metres of water per day to 100 villages south of Tyre and Bint Jabal. 150,000 people now have access to clean drinking water. Among the ruins of people's homes, local community leaders are assessing the damage. Aziz Bazi is one of them. We don't have no idea how we're going to live in the next couple of years, maybe, because this town has been built since 200 years before and in a couple of days, in one month, only has been destroyed. I don't understand, maybe we're going to wait. If we're going to wait 200 years to build our town again, that's too long. Aziz and his family live with his mother. Life is slowly getting back to normal, but everyday tasks are still fraught with danger. In her olive grove, she shows us the remains of a bomb. How am I supposed to harvest the olives with this here? According to the United Nations, more than one million unexploded cluster bomblets litter the gardens, fields and ruins of entire villages. These bomblets were packed into air-dropped or ground-launched shells and scattered across large areas. Many failed to detonate on impact and today pose a serious threat to civilians. Nevertheless, Fathya and her mother Asya can't help returning to the ruins of their former homes. When I returned here for the first time, I cried. But then I saw my children still alive and I told myself it could be worse. At least a house can be rebuilt.