Names make news. Last week these names made this news:

For two winners of the Medal of Honor, latter-day fortune brought a nose dive and a rebound. A one-man army of the Korean war, Marine Sergeant Alfred L. McLaughlin, credited with killing some 150 enemy soldiers at Bunker Hill, was whittled down to the rank of private, fined $120 and given a three-month stretch at hard labor. Better able to hold a hard position than hard liquor, Honorman McLaughlin had drunkenly gotten into an armed brawl with the wrong enemy, his commanding officer, Major Henry Checklou. McLaughlin's beef: Checklou was always taunting him about that medal. On the other hand, the one-man army of World War II. ex-Army Sergeant Charles E. ("Commando") Kelly, 36, credited with dispatching 40 Nazi soldiers to the glory of the Third Reich, landed a job after long spells of sickness and penury (TIME, Oct. 1). Kelly, taken on .by a St. Louis scrap-metal outfit as a contact man. said happily: "I'm among friends here."

Pilgrimaging to a Madrid apartment, grizzled Author Ernest Hemingway, 57, sat reverently at the bedside of frail Author Pio Baroja, 84, now an invalid as well as the tired lion of Spanish letters, whose works are cynical, realistic, often spoof tradition and women. Papa bore gifts-a copy of his Farewell to Arms inscribed to Don Pio "in homage from his disciple," a sweater and socks of softest cashmere, a bottle of Scotch whisky. Presenting his offerings, Disciple Hemingway said hoarsely: "Allow me to pay this small tribute to you who taught so much to those of us who wanted to be writers when we were young. I deplore the fact that you have not yet received a Nobel

Prize, especially when it was given to so many who deserved it less, like me, who am only an adventurer." Moved by his own heartfelt eloquence. Papa began crying as he departed. Don Pio, also touched, had been able only to mutter an astonished "Caramba!"

Rolling down the brand-new Kansas Turnpike that will be officially opened this week. Wyoming's unwary Republican Governor Milward L. Simpson forgot that the fancy road comes to a dead end at the Oklahoma state line. His car hurtled off the concrete into an Oklahoma wheat field. The only one of five riders to be hurt was the governor's wife Lorna, who had forgotten to fasten her safety belt, but escaped with slight cuts and bruises.

At a Memphis filling station. Dreamboat Groaner Elvis Presley showed that he can swing his fists as adroitly as his pelvis. Pulling up in his li'l ol' unpretentious white $10,000 Continental Mark II, Presley groaned a request to have his car's gas tank checked for a leak. Fumes were hurting his eyes, like. As the manager complied, a mob of gawkers and autograph hounds materialized, and traffic was soon jammed. Deaf to the manager's pleas to hit the trail, The Pelvis ecstatically kept on signing things thrust at him. Temper frayed, the manager bopped the singer on the back of his ducktailed coiffure. The blow made Elvis real mad. Side burns bristling, he rolled out of the car and rocked the manager with a looping right to the eye. Then a station attendant, a real big guy, moved in to square off with Presley. But Elvis threw a Sunday punch that grazed the bruiser's puss. A cop then enforced an armistice. Next day a judge, in a courtroom twittering with Presley's bobby-sox worshippers (several with babes in arms), decided that the gas-station pair were the aggressors, socked them with fines totaling $40. Cheers rocked the court. Elvis fought his way out through screaming admirers, went home and relaxed by playing with his puppy dog, Sweet Pea.

Retired General of the Army George Catlett Marshall, 75, who winters in North Carolina and summers in Virginia, was scheduled this week to receive the Woodrow Wilson Award for Distinguished Service for "meritorious service to democracy, public welfare, liberal thought, peace through justice."

Britain's First Sea Lord and chief of its naval staff, Admiral the Earl Mountbatten, 56, was upped to Admiral of the Fleet, top rank in Her Majesty's Navy.*

After several months of shy peeping at her over the hedgerows, the critics of two London dailies decided that Cinemorsel Marilyn Monroe, now making a movie with Sir Laurence Olivier in London, is everything her pressagents ever said she was-and more. Their consensus: a brilliant comedienne. Having previously all but ignored Marilyn's presence in Britain, the austere Times showed its rare enthusiastic side and proclaimed of Marilyn's performance in Bus Stop (TIME. Sept. 3): "What a partner she would have been for Chaplin in his heyday!" Thrummed the Daily Mail: "She reaffirms her position as the screen's most grown-up child actress."

Arriving in Manhattan for a showing of his spring creations. Paris Dressmaker Christian Dior let slip a few shapes of things to come. What next year's chic woman will look like, according to the edict of the Dioracle: her skirt will be "just a bit longer," her dress hues often favoring "toast to caramel" shades, her hat smaller, in order to show more of her face.

One of autumn's most conspicuous couples-about-Manhattan was Marlene Dietrich and Noel Coward, brimming for each other the mellow affection of longtime cronies who have never been linked romantically. Marlene had just blown in from Europe, where she starred in a movie titled The Monte Carlo Story. Explained she: "It's not about the Grimaldis, but gambling." Coward had a recording date with Columbia Records, but he was thoroughly dissatisfied with his own rendition of an old song of his, Sail Away. Said he: "I sounded like Lily Pons's aunt!"

In Kenya, on the last lap of her eastern African tour, Britain's Princess Margaret skipped official functions and stayed in her Nairobi quarters because of a mild gastric upset. Four days earlier she had shown cordial absence of emotion on being introduced to a far-flung British colonial officer, District Commissioner Francis Townsend, 31, brother of R.A.F. Group Captain Peter Townsend, Margaret's divorced ex-suitor. In London, meanwhile, Airman Townsend was divorced, by his own prior request, from the Royal Air Force. His high military-career prospects had died with his romance. Now he began final preparations for his long-heralded solo trip around the world in a British-style jeep, spurning scores of offers from unattached ladies who want to go along for the ride.

*The same rank and position was held by Mountbatten's father, Prince Louis of Battenberg, who resigned his posts at World War I's outbreak, when Britain's patriots clamored against all things German, including the Mountbatten family's origins. Prince Louis had little chance of enjoying his job: the war would have pitted him against his brother-in-law, Prussia's Prince Henry, Grand Admiral of the German Fleet, in command of Baltic Sea forces.

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