Lackluster Medals

Since the days of ancient Athens, a brave act has deserved a proud and artistic medal--everywhere but in the U.S. Last week when President Kennedy honored the country's first astronaut, all he had to pin on the lapel of Commander Alan Shepard was something that looked as if it might have come out of a Cracker Jack box. The Distinguished Service Medal of the National Aeronautics and Space

Administration is the most unimaginative decoration turned out by the U.S. Government so far--and the competition for that title is stiff.

The Navy Medal of Honor is not only inelegant, it does not even hang gracefully from its ribbon. The Bronze and Silver Stars are almost childish in design, and the propeller motif of the Distinguished Flying Cross looks like the work of a mechanic. Though the Legion of Merit is better, even it seems shoddy compared to France's Legion of Honor.

Such U.S. medals are turned out by the U.S. Army Institute of Heraldry, which has only two trained sculptors on its staff. Says James Risk of the American Numismatic Society in Manhattan: "There is a tendency in U.S. medals to go too much for symbolism, regardless of good design." Adds his colleague Henry Grunthal: "The medals are designed by craftsmen, not artists, and the craftsmen are told exactly what to do. The fantasy of the artist is suffocated by regulation."

No one at NASA will say who is responsible for Commander Shepard's D.S.M., but that perhaps is a blessing. One side of the medal shows a planet and satellite--a motif that any schoolboy might have thought up. On the other side is the inevitable laurel wreath. As for the lettering, Designer Henry Hart of the Smithsonian Institution has just one word: "Atrocious."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.