In March 1945, a Japanese bomber smashed two bombs into the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Franklin. "O'Callahan was everywhere," wrote the navigator of Lieut. Commander Joseph O'Callahan, the ship's Roman Catholic chaplain. Besides ministering to the wounded, O'Callahan manned a fire hose, going into an oven-hot turret to cool off the ammo to throw it overboard. For this Father O'Callahan, who died in 1964, became the only chaplain in World War II to receive the Medal of Honor. Last week, another honor was bestowed as the destroyer escort U.S.S. O'Callahan was commissioned at Boston Navy Yard. Donning a sailor's white hat, Richard Cardinal Cushing presided, observing that war "can make men into brutes. But out of it can also come achievements that expand the human spirit and remain an inspiration for all future time."

How could a rogue be so unfeeling as to steal a candelabra from Liberace? The pianist told Massachusetts cops that a thief had swiped the famed symbol--set with 16 small diamonds and worth about $700--from his limo while he was performing in the Boston suburb of Framingham. It was something of a temptation, being mounted on the left rear fender where any passerby could pry it loose. But not all was lost. The rascal didn't get the second candelabra on the other side, so there's still some light amid the darkness.

As the scales inched close to the 250-lb. mark, the lady decided the time had come for action, even though she knew the "Fat Farm," as she called it, would be no Fun City. So Mrs. Richard J. Hughes, 46, wife of the New Jersey Governor, checked into Kempner clinic at Duke University Medical Center for a course in dieting. The pounds didn't melt away, and at times she had to resort to fasting to hurry the process along. Yet today, 18 weeks and 80 lbs. lighter, Mrs. Hughes is down to size 16. The magic formula: medication, a bland diet consisting mostly of rice and a rigorous regimen of exercise.

What memories she has: jumping into a mass of alligators, wrestling one down with a flourish while the crowd cheered. Ah, yes. When a girl's been a hit in show biz, it's hard to settle for a ho-hum-drum routine. That's why Katherine Reid, 66, who in the 1920s made quite a name for herself on stage and screen, has started up that long comeback trail. Billing herself the "world's only lady gator wrestler," she sees no ordinary run-of-the-reptile return. She wants to gild her scaly and do guest shots on TV shows "walking on a red carpet after they show my old films." See you later, alligator.

Twiggy engaged? True enough. Britain's bean sprout of a lass and her hairdresser-turned-manager, Justin de Villeneuve, 28, announced they will be married. But not right off, chums. "Twiggy and I will marry when she's 21," announced her steady companion, while the bride-to-be, looking older than her 18 years in a micro-toga, waggled her side curls in agreement. "I don't believe in marrying young," said the Twig. And there's another little thing, continued Justin: Twiggy says she wants a ring bigger than Liz Taylor's 33.19-carat, $305,000 sparkler--which might take time.

"At noon of Sunday, the 6th of July, the fiesta exploded .,. . It kept up day and night for seven days. The dancing kept up, the drinking kept up, the noise went on." Thus, in 1926 in The Sun Also Rises, did a young Ernest Hemingway describe the Feria de San Fermin, the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. This month his widow Mary made a sentimental journey to Pamplona to witness the unveiling of a monument to Papa, erected by the citizens in gratitude for his interest in their fiesta. Standing on the newly named Paseo de Hemingway, Mary thanked the citizens through her tears. There was an emotional pause, then six bands burst into a typical jota and the crowd began dancing spontaneously. "You are home," said the mayor to Miss Mary.

She hardly looked as if she had spent 2 1/2 annoying hours in a plane stacked up over Kennedy Airport, only to emerge into the mid-90DEG steam bath that was Manhattan last week. As cool and beautiful as a nightblooming cereus, French Film Star Catherine Deneuve, 24, was over from Paris for three weeks of filming on The April Fools, a romantic comedy about two sufferers of mal de mariage. And pity the folks dying to show her the town. What with costumers, hairdressers, script girls and the rest, it was almost a week before Socialites Heidi Vanderbilt and Cathy Macauley could crash through with a bash in her honor.

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