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Speaking to a group of military schoo] heads in Washington, Army Chief of Staff Maxwell D. Taylor laid stress on the broad expanse of arts and sciences that must be understood by a future military leader. How knowledgeable is today's Army man? Confided General Taylor to a reporter later: "The profusion of skills and learning we have in the Army is astonishing. If I need a shortstop who plays the violin, I can find him some place!"
As spring crept up on the entertainment world, lovebirds, young and middle-agish. began to warble of making nests, although their fluty chirps were all but drowned out by the quasi-romantic uproar emanating from the welter of Kelly-Rainier prenuptial rites (see PRESS). Italy's limpid-eyed Cinemorsel Marisa Pavan, 23, an Oscar nominee for her supporting role in The Rose Tattoo, was going to marry France's dashing Cinemale Jean Pierre Aumont this summer; she thought he was "about 42" (he is 46), pooh-poohed his Riviera trysts with Grace Kelly as "just a publicity stunt." One of Grace's bridesmaids, TV and Movie Actress Rita Gam, 27, cooed throatily at her new fiancé. Yaleman Thomas Guinzburg, 29, a co-founder of the new-directional, English-language quarterly Paris Review. Onetime Cineminor Joyce (Boy Trouble) Mathews, 36, a headliner in 1951 when she slashed her wrists and scared everybody by threatening a nosedive from the Manhattan apartment of Showman Billy Rose, clucked joyously of spring wedding bells for her and Billy, 56. Thrice-wed Comic George Jessel, 57, warily croaked that he has "an affectionate little ring" for unstarred Starlet Joan Tyler's engagement finger. Quipped Georgie: "It's not modern to say one is engaged!"
A reception committee of vice squad sleuths and Australian customs men wait ed at Sydney Airport to greet Sir Eugene Goossens, 62, composer of 64 worthy musical works (e.g., The Apocalypse), conductor of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra since 1947 and maestro of the Cincinnati Symphony for 16 seasons before that. London-born Sir Eugene, thrice-married father of five daughters, was startled by such a homecoming after a European concert tour. So were his welcomers. The "prohibited imports" strewn through Goossens' luggage: some 1,100 "indecent" photographs, several naughty books and movie films, three strange rubber masks. On his own request, Sir Eugene was "temporarily" relieved of his podium. At the moment his wife was holed up in a convent near Paris. One of his daughters. Sidonie, commented sadly: "My father has not been well lately."