They were part of a family that spent months at sea and their lives depended on each other's actions.

"You put your life in someone else's hands every day on a sub," Hagendorn said. "Their choices can be the difference between life and death.

Schade, 88, and Hagendorn, 77, became closer friends once the war ended. On Tuesday, Schade dropped by Hagendorn's home in Temecula.

Sitting in a chair, flipping through a submarine book, Schade, who was executive officer, then commander, of the USS Growler before rising to the rank of vice admiral, avoided talk of World War II.

"(Schade) doesn't like to talk about what happened back then because he lost a lot of classmates and friends," said Rodney Ward, his grandson.

The casualty rate on World War II subs was high -- one in four sailors was killed in battle.

Hagendorn said that as a commander, Schade was cool-headed, easy to talk to and never came down hard on his crew. Schade became an executive officer on Growler in 1942 under the command of Howard Gilmore.

Schade remembers the Thanksgiving Day the sub went out to sea. Radios played "Chattanooga Choo-Choo" and "Deep in the Heart of Texas." The sky was gloomy and threatening.

But all that would be left behind once the boat submerged. Families, radios and even showers would become luxuries of the past.

Growler patrolled the Pacific Ocean from the Aleutian Islands to the Philippines during its run from 1942 to 1944, sinking 17 Japanese ships. On it last mission, Nov. 8, 1944, it sank off the coast of the Philippines, taking with it a crew of 86 sailors. What caused the sinking remains a mystery.

Schade spent two years with Growler. Hagendorn served under Schade in 1944 before Schade transferred to a new ship and before Growler's last mission.

Life on a sub was tedious and downright boring, according to Schade, who said most of the time was spent doing collision drills, fire drills and diving drills.

By day, Growler patrolled just below the water line, periscope up, looking for Japanese ships to attack. At night, the sub usually surfaced to let fresh air in. Schade said the nights were full of surprises, with optical illusions and nightly visits from flying fish.

Combat broke up some of the monotony. In one encounter, Schade's first taste of battle, Growler came within 1,000 feet of three Japanese destroyers in a thick morning fog. The sub sank all three with torpedoes.

Sometimes the sub was attacked by surface ships with depth charges.

Hagendorn said when depth charges came down, the tension was the hardest part of the war. In an extreme case, a sailor committed suicide during a depth-charge attack.

"Every time you went out, it was guaranteed you would be depth-charged," Hagendorn said. "It grew on your nerves and every time the hull shuddered, it broke down a piece of your sanity. And they wouldn't just drop one. They dropped 60 or 70 and just kept coming back. They knew you were down there."

Schade said during one attack a crew mate crawled into a torpedo tube to escape the noise and fell asleep for 24 hours.

On Feb. 7, 1943, Growler became part of military history. The sub was running on the surface near Queensland, Australia, when a 2.5-ton enemy vessel was spotted speeding toward Growler. There was no time to fire torpedoes or submerge, so Gilmore ordered a hard left rudder.

The ship missed. Gilmore spun Growler around and ordered her to ram the destroyer. The sub crashed into the ship at 17 knots. The collision bent the sub's bow 90 degrees.

The Japanese ship's large-caliber machine guns opened fire and Gilmore was hit. Bullets ripped into Growler. The sub was in danger of sinking.

Instead of risking the crew's life, Gilmore ordered Schade, who was next in command, to "take her down." That cast Gilmore adrift at sea. He would later receive the first posthumous Medal of Honor for submarine warfare.

"I was covered in blood after we pulled down a few of the officers off the deck," Schade said. "I had 30 seconds to make a decision and I knew it was my duty to the ship and crew to submerge. I ordered us to go down.

Schade said the trip to Australia to repair the boat was a nightmare. Torpedoes were hanging out of the bow and enemy ships dropped depth charges at Growler throughout the journey.

The bow was welded back into place in Australia and Schade became commander of Growler.

Schade said he does not think a lot about what happened during the war because he said it is hard. But keeping in touch with other sub veterans made growing old easier on the soul, he said.

Tuesday, Schade and Hagendorn said goodbyes for what Hagendorn said might be the last time.

"We are both getting pretty old and travel is pretty hard for us," Hagendorn said. "But I tell you one thing. I am honored to have known this man, to have been under his command, and to have been his friend."

Rocky Salmon can be reached at rsalmon@pe.com or by phone at (909) 587-3128.