Heavy fighting has erupted in the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict as Russia tries to shore up a ceasefire agreed by Armenia and Azerbaijan last weekend.

Azerbaijan says it has destroyed missile sites inside Armenia which it claims were used to target civilian areas, and its president has said military operations are continuing.

Nagorno-Karabakh is internationally recognised as part of Azerbaijan, but the enclave is controlled by ethnic Armenians.

BBC correspondents Orla Guerin and Steve Rosenberg report from both sides.

The tree-lined main street of Ganja, Azerbaijan’s second-largest city, was bathed in morning sunlight and carpeted in glass. Just behind it a cluster of apartment blocks had been ripped open like tin cans.

Ganja lies 100km (62 miles) from the frontlines of Nagorno-Karabakh, but on Sunday – the first full day of a shaky ceasefire – that wasn’t far enough.

Azerbaijan accused Armenia of firing a ballistic missile at a residential part of Ganja. Armenia accused Baku of shelling civilians.

We found 60-year-old Nushabe Haiderova in her headscarf and slippers, with a cardigan over her night clothes. Her arms were slack with shock. “This is how I ran out, with only what I was wearing,” she said. “We barely escaped. It was horrible.”

We picked our way through the debris in her damaged home, to the bedroom where her grandchildren had been sleeping. Their injuries were minor. But now a new generation – on both sides – is being scarred by this decades-old conflict. At times it feels like a mirror image.

“Armenians should leave peacefully,” she said. “We don’t want war. We just want to free our own motherland.”

People here view Nagorno-Karabakh as a missing piece of their territory. That is both an article of faith and a well-rehearsed national narrative, which has the backing of the international community.

At 22 years old, Ihtiyar Rasulov has never set foot in the disputed mountain region. But the clean-shaven young man, with a boy-band look, says he’s ready to die to get it back. When we met in Azerbaijan’s capital, Baku, he had just signed up to fight.

“I am ready to fight for my nation and my motherland with my soul and my blood,” he said earnestly. “My father, my mother and my grandfather lived in those areas. My brother is fighting right now.”

Ihtiyar lives in a rundown housing complex teeming with families who fled Nagorno-Karabakh, and surrounding areas, during the war in the early 1990s. He has been raised on the folk memory of lost land, atrocities and historic enmity with Armenia. It has been bred in the bone. That goes for many here.

“Karabakh is Azerbaijan,” he said. “Armenians came there and they did a lot of bad things to our nation. Of course, I haven’t witnessed it, but I have heard about it.”

He also said he agreed with whatever Azerbaijan’s President, Ilham Aliyev, had to say. In this tightly controlled country – where the presidency was passed from father to son – you hear that a lot.