BUCKLEY SPACE FORCE BASE, Colo. -- The Denver Post’s front page stories on April 13, 1943, were mostly the sorts one would have expected almost a year and a half into the US’s involvement in the Second World War. For example, there was a feature highlighting successful air battles against the Japanese over Papua New Guinea. Another reported on progress against Nazis in North Africa. One article, however, was not like the rest. Its headline read: “Soldier at Buckley Held in Probe of Holdups in Denver.”
Police had good reason to believe the soldier, Private Edmund J. LaBrecque, was none other than the infamous “Perfumed Bandit.” Not only did victims recall the stickup man’s gardenia-scented aftershave—hence the criminal moniker—but over a dozen witnesses identified LaBrecque as the bandit. Detectives suspected that over the previous six weeks he had robbed at least eighteen trams, drugstores, and taxis. The twenty-five-year-old student at the Buckley Field armament school initially denied the charges, but changed his tune in the face of overwhelming evidence. He then happily, even proudly, confessed…but only to thirteen drugstore robberies.
LaBrecque was a self-proclaimed drugstore holdup specialist. He blamed his violent criminal journey on a broken heart. As one newspaper article phrased it, the woman he “believed was his sweetheart had transferred her affections.” The private decided to cope with his grief by renting fast cars and socializing with the opposite sex. Unfortunately, that coping mechanism was expensive. LaBrecque’s solution was to rob drugstores. The Perfumed Bandit’s total haul was around $1000, the equivalent of about $19,000 in 2026. The crime spree cost him a twenty-five-year prison sentence.
There will never be a “greatest generation” documentary featuring Private Edmund LaBrecque, but that does not mean he was a complete outlier. In fact, his story reveals some interesting characteristics of the period. LaBrecque, for example, came of age during the golden age of celebrity bandits. Gangsters like “Pretty Boy” Floyd and “Machine Gun” Kelly dominated the news in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Stories about bank robberies, shootouts, and car chases could easily have made an impression on young Edmund. A life of crime, especially one that included a catchy alias, might have seemed like an easy path to money and adventure.
LaBrecque’s narrative also helps expose one of the consequences of rapid mobilization. When America entered World War II, the military had to enlist, equip, and train a lot of people in a limited amount of time. Some percentage of those unavoidably had what can charitably be called checkered pasts. To be clear, most of the soldiers, sailors, and Marines with criminal rap sheets served honorably. A few, however, like Buckley Field’s very own “Perfumed Bandit” LaBrecque, could not shake off their demons long enough to serve anyone but themselves.