NEW LONDON -- Marie Challis, 73, doesn't complain about the arthritis that has gnarled her right hand and restricted the movement of her arm. "It was just all those broken bones," she shrugs. She's grateful to still have the arm that was crushed along with her leg and pelvis in the explosion 65 years ago, grateful to still have the eye that popped out of its socket; too grateful to be alive to complain. Behind her, the front window of the London Museum and Tea Room frames a towering granite monument where the names of nearly 300 dead children are...