EDITOR'S NOTE
 
In the May 2004 issue, Playboy published Death and Dishonor by Mark Boal, an article that followed a retired Army Staff Sergeant as he searched for his missing son, an active soldier and veteran of tours in Bosnia and Iraq. Specialist Richard Davis was listed as AWOL by the military, a classification former Sergeant Lanny Davis found ludicrous.
 
As Boal resolves some of the questions surrounding Davis's disappearance, it becomes clear that this story is more than a simple mystery. The nature of the events uncovered here touches upon some of the most troubling and complex issues to arise from the invasion in Iraq including the consequences of overwhelming firepower in urban areas, the endless tours of duty and the unrelenting stress of day-to-day combat.
 
Death and Dishonor was the first of a triptych of non-fiction features by Boal to run in Playboy. For the second, The Man in the Bomb Suit (September 2005), he traveled to the combat zone to profile the IED specialist who at the time had defused the most roadside bombs in Iraq. The Real Cost of War, published in March 2007, is also informed by the events in Death and Dishonor and covers the burgeoning crisis of how the government handles Iraqi veterans suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
 
Now comes a powerful new movie, In the Valley of Elah, directed by Paul Haggis and starring Tommy Lee Jones and Charlize Theron, which is inspired by Death and Dishonor (Boal shares the writing credits with Haggis). Before a recent screening in New York, Haggis described how moved he had been by the article when it crossed his desk. As is readily apparent, in the more than three years since the article was published it has lost none of its power or relevancy.

PROLOGUE: WELCOME HOME

Two months earlier these men of the third platoon of B Company had fought side by side in some of the bloodiest battles of Baghdad. Now they sat together, close to the center stage, talking to the strippers. Around midnight, after several more rounds of drinks, they became so rowdy and loud that the bouncer told them to leave.
The classiest strip club in Columbus, Georgia, where Richard Davis was last seen. Typical soldier stuff, a waitress who was working that night recalled, just guys "shouting and being disruptive." They swigged the last of their beers and stumbled outside into a small parking lot behind a gas station and a Waffle House restaurant, and then, flush with alcohol in the warm Georgia evening, they began to argue.