SDEROT, Israel, Jan. 4 -- Just over the border in Gaza, thousands of Israeli troops battled Hamas fighters Sunday while Israeli warplanes, helicopters and drones bombarded targets from above.

But in this working-class Israeli town two miles from the Gaza boundary, Yoav Peled chased rockets, as he has been doing for years.

"It's the same as usual," Peled, the community's security coordinator, said as he stood in a wheat field examining the mangled remains of a 19mm Qassam rocket that had slammed down minutes before. "They probably built this one just a couple days ago. It's brand new."

Since the Israeli offensive began nine days ago, the country's leaders have insisted that Israel's largest military operation in Gaza since its troops withdrew in 2005 would not stop until it ended the Hamas rocket fire. But residents of southern Israel have no such expectations. The rockets, they say, will go on despite what Israeli Defense Minister Ehud Barak described as an "all-out war" on the armed Islamist group that runs Gaza.

Israeli ground forces pushed into Gaza on Saturday night, but on Sunday about 40 rocket and mortar attacks struck half a dozen Israeli towns and cities, roughly the same number as the day before. Since the Israeli operation began on Dec. 27, there have been approximately 500 rocket and mortar strikes.

Most of the Qassams, Katyushas and mortar shells fired from Gaza have fallen without causing damage. But four Israelis have been killed in the barrage, while other strikes have caused injuries or destroyed buildings. Cities once believed to be beyond the range of rocket fire from Gaza -- including Ashdod and Beersheba -- have been hit regularly in the past week.

"I hope the invasion succeeds," said Peled, 65, who is responsible for finding the rockets after they land and making sure they have detonated. "But after so many years, it's difficult to believe this will work."

Israeli military officials say they are not surprised that Hamas has been able to keep up the attacks, even as the group's fighters attempt to stay alive amid the massive Israeli assault.

"That's to be expected," said Capt. Elie Isaacson, an Israeli military spokesman. "Hamas previously had the ability to fire 200 rockets a day. Now at most they're firing 70. So we know for a fact that they're under pressure. If after an eight-day air campaign they're still able to fire rockets, it just highlights the importance of this mission."

Still, a senior Israeli military official, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said it is highly unlikely Israel will succeed in stopping the rocket fire entirely. A more realistic goal, he said, is a "lower level of terror."

Other Israeli leaders have adopted that same vague formulation. But some, including top officials, have been more categorical. In announcing the ground invasion Saturday night, Barak, a candidate for prime minister in elections scheduled for next month, said the goal is to "get Hamas to stop its hostile activities against Israel."

Mark Regev, spokesman for Prime Minister Ehud Olmert, said the operation will end only when Israel is assured that "the civilian population in the south of the country will no longer be on the receiving end of Hamas rockets."

Noam Yakov is one of those civilians. But he said he does not believe he will ever see that day, no matter how much blood is shed by both sides during the fighting in Gaza. "If they stop, then Hamas won't exist," said the 67-year-old Sderot resident. "They claim that this is their land, and they want it back."

Hamas and its allies generally say their attacks are in retaliation for Israeli strikes on Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank, territory Israeli forces occupied in the 1967 Middle East war. In its founding charter, Hamas calls for Israel's destruction.

Peled, a civilian, worked with a police bomb-disposal team Sunday to dig a rocket from a farmer's field, where it had burrowed a two-foot-deep hole. Gaza was visible in the distance, nothing more than a few gray specks set against a clear blue sky. Drones buzzed overhead. An artillery unit launched shells that shook the earth.

"It's a small one," Peled said of the rocket when the team pried it from the ground.

Painted dark green with four tail fins, the rocket was no more than 18 inches long. Peled said he had seen much worse.

As he spoke, Sderot's alert system sounded across the city. More rockets were on the way.

Peled and the disposal team jogged to an adjacent drainage ditch and lay down in the dirt to wait. Thirty seconds later, his radio barked the news that all was clear.

"No Qassams," he said, brushing the soil off his jeans and smiling. "It was a mistake."

New York Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg (I), on a visit to Sderot, had to duck into a bomb shelter during the same false alarm.

Despite the risk of rockets, Israel has made Sderot a must-see stop for foreign leaders in the past several years. The government has set up an office here to distribute information to visiting journalists, and Israeli politicians have frequently trekked to Sderot over the past week to give news conferences.

Residents say they have grown accustomed to the frequent alerts -- triggered by a high-tech surveillance system -- in which loudspeakers broadcast the words "red color."

Unlike during the Lebanon war in 2006, when Katyusha rockets fired by Hezbollah forced the populations of entire towns in the north to flee, most residents of Sderot and other southern cities near Gaza have chosen to ride out this war. In general, the rockets being used by Hamas are far less potent and far more inaccurate than those Hezbollah fired by the thousands into the Galilee region.

With the sun shining and the air crisp and cool, many Israelis strolled through the streets here Sunday, or waited for the bus out in the open, beyond the confines of the heavily reinforced shelters that line the sidewalks.

When the alert went off around midday, waitresses and diners at a restaurant dutifully trudged into the kitchen, away from the storefront windows. "Third time today," one waitress said impatiently as she counted down the seconds until she could leave.

And yet, the threat is real. On Sunday morning, an advanced Qassam tore through the modest, white-washed Sderot home of a woman in her 70s. The woman was in her bedroom. The rocket devastated her living room, flinging large chunks of concrete on the floor, smashing furniture and leaving black scars of soot on the remaining walls.

The woman was treated for shock and smoke inhalation but was otherwise uninjured, neighbors and officials said.

"It's no life here," said a neighbor, Mary Ohana, 60.

Ohana said she hopes that Israel and the Palestinians can learn to live together without fighting each other. But until then, she said, an Israeli military operation is the only solution, because she believes it will force Hamas to agree to a long-term truce.

"Two weeks ago I started taking a course in Arabic. The teacher asked me why. I said, 'I hope there will be peace, and I want to be able to talk to my neighbors in Gaza.' Then this happened," she said. "Really, it should have happened a long time ago. But I'm glad it's happening now."

© 2009 The Washington Post Company

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