A Case of Mistaken Identity

  

Old Gold Advertisement from 1942

        "Honey, there's someone in here." 

    Upon receiving his wife's hushed warning, 26-year-old Dean M. Bressler quietly got out of bed, fearing that the rumored intruder had entered their home. He retrieved a revolver from a dresser drawer, aimed carefully, and fired a single shot into the dimly lit room toward a shadowy figure near the bedroom window. A woman's scream pierced the night. On the floor by the window lay his 23-year-old wife, Margaret. Mrs. Bressler, a mother to their 17-month-old son and expecting another child, died of her wound two hours later in a hospital. Marguerite Gentile Bressler was shot to death by her Army officer husband on October 6, 1947.

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    When their relationship began in 1937, Dean Bressier was 17, and Margaret Gentile was 14. Even at that young age, Margaret's beauty was evident. She was Dean's first girlfriend, and he was her first love; there were never any others. Dean Michael Bressler was the son of Mrs. Joseph Haines of New York and Alban A. Bressler of Miami Beach. In 1940, he graduated from the Bolles School, a military boarding school in Jacksonville, Florida, and continued his studies at West Point. 

     Margaret was the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Edwards Gentile. Her father was a concert musician. She completed her education at Sunrise Park School in Wantagh, Notre Dame Convent, Hunter College, and the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. While studying at Notre Dame, Margaret ventured into modeling, and soon, her captivating beauty gained significant attention. She became the prominent face of the 'Miss Old Gold' cigarette advertisements and other promotional campaigns. Professionally, she was known as Margaret Edwards.

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    On June 6, 1944, after the commencement ceremony at West Point, a wedding was held at the Most Holy Trinity Catholic Chapel at West Point, officiated by Monsignor William Scully from St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City. Cameras flashed, and newsreels documented the occasion as 'Miss Old Gold,' the stunning blonde beauty showcased in cigarette advertisements for six years, married Lt. Dean Michael Bressler. 

    This joyous event followed the lieutenant's graduation from the Military Academy earlier that same day. The young officers' wartime khakis beautifully contrasted with the white gowns worn by the bride and her attendants during a stunning all-white wedding. 

    The bride, given in marriage by her father, was gowned in rosepoint lace. A Juliet cap held her long veil of matching lace, and her flowers were orchids. Miss Claire Dempsey of Stambery Estates, Md., served as maid of honor. 

     The bridal party included Misses Audrey Johnston from Jackson Heights, Edna Hagen from Brooklyn, Peggy De Laurent from Forest Hills, and Evelyn Gentile from Riverdale, the bride's cousin. The ushers comprised the bridegroom's classmates: Lts. John Peterson, W. K. Schelinger, Burice Stasser from Alaska, and Joseph Cotrona from Manhasset. 

     A reception followed at the Officers' Club. The newlyweds spent their honeymoon at a shooting lodge owned by family friend Robert Hoe, the president of the Bank of Poughkeepsie and Honorary Chairman of the New York State Bridge Authority.

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    Their honeymoon was short-lived, coinciding with the war's peak intensity. Before long, Dean was dispatched to Fort Benning, Georgia, for advanced training. He then attended Parachute School and was deployed to the European Theater of Operations with his unit. He served as a Rifle Pilot in the 513th Parachute Infantry.

 
    From the book The Sky Men by Kirk B. Ross:

The Sky Men is the story of F Company of the 513th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 17th U.S. Airborne Division. They were all volunteers to a new, dangerous, and elite corps – Airborne. In the midst of the hardest European winter in forty years, the 17th Airborne Division was committed to action against the German Army west of Bastogne, Belgium. From their first day in action, the green paratroopers – caught up in the toughest fighting of the Bulge when the American Army stood up and began slugging its way back to the start line – attacking through knee-deep snow and over bald terrain, demonstrated exceptional courage in closing with the enemy. In March 1945, Operation Varsity sends F Company parachuting across the Rhine and into the final battle for the conquest of Nazi Germany. 

     Margaret, who had left her modeling career after marriage, resided with her parents in West Point, New York. She welcomed a son named Michael on April 10, 1945. 

     After the war, Dean completed a brief tour with the 82nd Airborne Division at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. During this period, the 82nd Airborne Division served as a strategic reserve and a rapid deployment force for the United States. 

    When Dean was assigned to the Pentagon, the Army's headquarters in Washington, D.C., the young family reunited and began their new adventure at 3711 North Pershing Drive in Ashton Heights, nestled in the heart of Arlington, Virginia. Ashton Heights was a highly desirable area known for its tree-lined streets and charming parks, which provided a sense of peace and a bond with nature. This family-oriented neighborhood featured outstanding schools and a welcoming, friendly community.

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    It was the fulfillment of their dreams—the three of them together, savoring the warmth of the cozy kitchenette, the charm of the living room, and the tranquility of the rural landscape. When Dean came home from work, they had no urge to venture out; it felt delightful to simply unwind "at home." Even better, Margaret was expecting another baby. 

    However, their idyllic life was tainted by unsettling rumors of a prowler lurking in the area. One morning, Dean discovered damage to the screen door. He believed this indicated a possible attempted break-in, so he promptly called the police. When the officers arrived to investigate, Dean stated his intention to handle the matter himself, saying, "If anyone tries to enter this place, I will take action." 

     On October 6, 1947, he did just that. At 4:30 a.m., just before dawn, Margaret vigorously shook his arm, and Dean was awakened. Her voice trembled with fear as she whispered, "Honey, there's someone in here!" Dean rolled out of bed and hurried to his dresser in a single, fluid motion. He grasped a German revolver tucked away in the bottom drawer, left explicitly for emergencies like this. He stood tall and turned, the gun cocked and ready. The room was dim, and Dean was still groggy from sleep, but there was no mistaking the silhouette of the intruder huddled by the window. He fired a shot, and the figure vanished from view. He flicked on the light and surveyed the room. A surge of shock hit him as his heart constricted and his complexion paled. Margaret lay on the floor, seriously injured and unconscious. 

    She must have gotten out of bed to peer out the window while he had grabbed the gun. The .45 caliber pistol's bullet had traveled through Mrs. Bressler's body just beneath the heart and was launched across the street, ultimately ending up on the sleeping porch belonging to the house across the street. The homeowner, Richard C Sunday, a lineman for Pepco Electric Company, later informed reporters that on most nights, either his children or his wife usually slept on the porch; however, that night, they had all slept indoors. He said nothing about a prowler or disturbances plaguing their street or neighborhood. Margaret was pronounced dead two hours later at the hospital.

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    Arlington County Police Captain Hugh C. Jones stated that Lieutenant Bressler's concern for his wife’s safety ultimately led to the tragedy. However, he refrained from addressing whether this concern was warranted. 

     Dr. W. C. Welburn, the 74-year-old medical examiner from Arlington County, Virginia, issued a certificate of accidental death on October 7, 1947. The WWI veteran reached his conclusion after hearing the elite Army Lieutenant's version of the shooting.

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    After the funeral in West Point, Dean returned to his home on North Pershing Drive. He wandered through the rooms, letting his hand glide over the items Margaret had treasured. Picking up her sewing basket, he gently unraveled a portion of her knitting to reveal a baby's bootie. Settling into her favorite chair, he shut his eyes and remembered her laughter.

    Tears slipped from his tightly shut eyelids, tracing down his cheeks. He wiped them away, stood up, and left the once cheerful home. Walking down the front steps to the sidewalk, he felt an invisible force tugging at his shoulders—a strong, undeniable urge to look back at the house one last time. She stood at the front door, smiling and waving, her cheeks flushed from the sun after a day spent tending to her flowers, her blonde hair shimmering in the soft afternoon light. She approached him, her head thrown back in joyous laughter, arms wide open, ready to embrace him. It took every ounce of strength to turn away and leave.

    That was the last time Lieutenant Bressler glimpsed his dream home—the place that had transformed from a sanctuary of joy and fulfillment to a source of sorrow in the fleeting moment of a gunshot.

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Epilogue

    The following was written by Dean M. Bressler to Mrs. Alice Hames, 4619 No. Ashland Ave., Chicago 40, Ill. (Corrections made for clarity) After Basic Course at Benning, I went on to Prcht School. Overseas to ETO and served as a rifle pilt. ldr. in the 513th Prcht. Inf., 17th AB Div from Jan 15 until the end of the war. Returned to the States and served a short tour with the 82nd AB Div at Bragg. In 46 attended the Adv. Course at Benning. Promoted to Captain in Nov 46. Occupation duty in Germany from 46 to 50, during which time I was CO Hq Co Stuttgart Military Post (46-48) and later CO Co A 54th Combat Engr. Bn. USCON (48-50). This latter command was quite interesting for a "goat." Returned to the States in 50 and served as an Aide to the CG First Army until 52. I then went to Puerto Rico and served as an S-3 of a Bn. and an RCT, during which time I was promoted to Major in Oct 52. This post lasted 8 months when I was assigned (in April 53) as a Military Observer [sic] with the United Nations in Kashmir, India. At this writing, I am somewhere in the Himalayas near Tibet with the Gorkha Rifles, Indian Army, on the "cease-fire line" between India and Pakistan." Eulogy copied in its entirety (corrections made for clarity) written by Michael Bressler, son of Dean M. Bressler, USMA '44 I was 4 months old when I first met my Dad; it was Summer 1945. I peered through the sides of my crib as this tall; uniformed stranger came into my room for the first time. An American paratrooper, home from the war and home to his beloved wife, Monnie. Years later, I was told that I had an expression on my face as if to say, "Who you, mister? ". Then I heard the gentle and familiar voice of mother saying ... " Michael, this is your Daddy..."! We were buddies instantly ... as if we had shared together the campaigns of Europe... it was the beginning of a long life of friendship and camaraderie few sons are privileged to claim. Growing up, Dean Bressler was my best friend. His wartime exploits were recounted to me in my youth but always in the context of history, his favorite subject at the Academy and one he excelled at all his life. "War is a regrettable legacy of mankind," he would say, "... and I hope to God you never have to go through one." ... I recall quite vividly his recitation on "Operation Varsity" and the specific role taken by seventeen USMA '44 grads "fresh out of airborne school who jumped into enemy territory, overcoming flak, errant smoke screens, and their own nerves...!" Dad had a way of making history a "fun" experience, one filled with film clips and music of the era; these recordings and productions of his own design became a lifelong hobby for him and are now counted among the favored treasures of the family. We lost my mother early in life, and it was Dad who carried on and became both a mom and a Dad. Always keeping me with him no matter what. I was "his boy," and he made sure that I had a good youth - experience and the best possible start in life, regardless of the profession I chose. Later in life, my choice would be Army. My first remembrance of life with Dad was in Stuttgart, Germany as part of the American occupation in the late 1940's. In Germany, and especially at that time, my Father developed a fondness for the European lifestyle, which he would relish all his days. As a company commander in the Allied Constabulary Command, my Dad took special delight in taking me to the mess hall to eat with the troops; occupied Germany was my first recollection of life and of the Army, which throughout my youth would become my extended family. In those days, the Army was small and, indeed, a family; it was about this time that a young fellow officer's wife by the name of Millie White looked after me when the men were out on maneuvers. Years later and while I was a First Classman at the Academy, it would be Millie who would introduce me to my future wife, Kathleen. In the old Army, events, and kindness had a nice way of coming full circle. Dad did a lot of hunting in Germany and I can't remember a time when the freezer wasn't well stocked with venison, elk, wild boar, or pheasant. Returning to New York City for a short tour Dad was Aide to the First Army Commander stationed at Governor's Island. With family in New York, it was a rather pleasant stay but short-lived as the Korean War was in full swing. Instead of Korea, Dad drew an assignment with the United Nations Military Observer's Group patrolling the Pakistani - Indian border under cease-fire conditions. For my Father, the tour was a historical odyssey. It was a storybook adventure rivaling the exploits of Indiana Jones but combining significant military duty with a historical sojourn along the ancient path of Alexander's march to the Indus River. According to his Himalayan Journal ..." we found ourselves among a blue-eyed, blond-haired people - in the remotest place on earth - who were the direct descendants of the Armies of Alexander." Peace-time army years followed, and Dad enjoyed pleasant duty tours at San Jose State College (teaching military history), Ft. Ord, California, and again at Stuttgart (7th Army HQ). At Stuttgart, I remember Father being very happy; he was always at my high school athletic events, taking movies, and being the best Dad a boy could ever have. It was during our second tour at Stuttgart that Dad introduced me to the European style of hunting game and we went on many a hunt after wild boar, deer, and elk. Several times, we were the guest of one of Dad's old friends from the post-war-occupation days, Fredrick Carl Fugger, the Crown Prince of Bavaria. I was sixteen, and for a solid weekend, we would hunt with the Prince on his private lands at his hunting retreat near Munich. Growing up, my Father was very strict but also a kind, loving parent; he taught me everything a young man needed to know, including discipline when I needed it. During my plebe year, we would joke, and he would say, "Mike, you are the only cadet ever to have entered West Point with 19 years of plebe year already behind him!". In our family of two, Dad was the perpetual upperclassman! My years at the Academy were made less trying by my Father's consistent and dedicated interest in my well-being. Each Summer's leave was well planned to give me the best possible time, thereby affording me great relief from the rigors of Academy life. One such momentous 30-day leave was taken in Bermuda, where Dad had leased a villa for the summer. By then, my Dad was retired and living in New York City. During the academic year, he would host tailgate parties at Army football games and provide truly unforgettable Christmas leaves in New York City. Shortly after my graduation in 1968, Dad moved to Ft. Collins, Colorado, where he enjoyed a pleasant, quieter life, not having to put up with the rat race of New York. Upon my return from the Vietnam War, the Army sent me for a master's degree at Colorado State University in Fort Collins, where my Father was on the university's business staff. It was there that my son, Michael, was born giving my Dad an experience he had missed by being away at war himself the day I was born. My Father lived in Ft. Collins until just before he passed away. My Father's encouragement during my youth, coupled with the strong, stable home life he gave me under difficult conditions provided me with a lasting legacy of values which I gratefully pass on as a contribution to my own family today. Dad is survived by two magnificent grandchildren, Alexandra K. Bressler and Michael A. Bressler II, both attorneys. Alexandra is a Notre Dame Law School graduate with an undergraduate psychology major and Michael is a Denver Law School graduate with an undergraduate economics major. I am proud to have been able to look after my Father in the last year of his life; his generation, especially his West Point Class, was part of an American era that fought - and won - a great war for American survival in which there could be no compromise. Dean Bressler and the Class of 1944, along with other Americans of their generation, were God's answer to the evils of their time. The mind can only reel at the thought of where the world would be had we lost. His grandson, Michael, and I were at his bedside in the final moments. I reminisced with Dad silently, communicating mentally only through prayer. I sang some of Dad's old Army favorites and ended with the Alma Mater. I gave my Father his final salute at 0745 hours on 21 May 2002 and commended him to the eternal Long Grey Line. It was a farewell between soldiers... - Michael A. Bressler, USMA '68 and Son of USMA '44 Eulogy post by Dean’s grandson: "My Grandfather was a good man. He is loved very much by his family. Weidman's Heil, Colonel."

Note to reader: "Waidmanns Heil" is a traditional German hunting greeting, which hunters would say to wish each other luck in their search for game.   

 

            Margaret Gentile

 

Dean Bressler and Margaret Gentile on their Wedding Day 

 

 

In April 1948, George Foster wrote a romanticized summary of the Bressler
case for the American Weekly. It is unknown if Dean Bressler participated. 

 

Next: The Case of Forgotten Valor and Service

Sources

The Sunday Oregonian, Apr 20, 1947, Page 106

The Journal News, Oct 14, 1946, Page 9

Delaware County Daily Times, Oct 7, 1946, Page 9

The Daily Press, Oct 13, 1946, Page 6

Morning Pioneer, Oct 7, 1946, Page 6

The Miami News, May 7, 1944, Page 19

Newsday, June 7, 1944, Page

The Daily Review, Oct 8, 1946 · Page 1

www.songfacts.com/facts/rammstein/waidmanns-heil

www.usmilitariaforum.com/forums/index.php?/topic/209416-souvenir-of-operation-varsity-parachute-scarfascot/

www.west-point.org/users/usma1944/14300/