Home Front: Robert “Big Bob” Groskinsky Sr.

When Robert “Big Bob” Groskinsky Sr. left Central Wisconsin for the United States Army in February 1975, he did not have a long-range plan for where military service might take him. He had something more immediate: he needed a job.

Groskinsky was born in Harvard, Illinois, where he spent much of his childhood before his family moved to the Milladore area when he was a teenager. His father had a 23-acre hobby farm, and Bob soon learned that if he wanted spending money, he was expected to earn it. He remembers asking his father for $5 to go to a movie. His father told him he did not have it, then added a lesson Bob still remembers: “You’re old enough to work.”

So Bob did. He baled hay, helped neighboring farmers and found whatever work a teenager could find. After graduating from Auburndale High School, Groskinsky went to work for a construction company in Pittsville. By late 1974, he thought he was beginning to establish himself in the working world.

Then came the company Christmas party. While others were receiving bonus checks, Groskinsky opened what he expected would be his own. Instead, he found a layoff notice. He was two days short of qualifying for unemployment benefits.

“I had no income coming in,” he recalled. “I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life.” Military recruiters suddenly became worth talking to.

At first, Groskinsky thought he might become a cook. Then, while speaking with an Army recruiter in Wisconsin Rapids, he noticed a picture of a military policeman and asked whether he qualified. The answer was yes.

There was another consideration. Someone told the young man that Army cooks often had to report for work at two or three in the morning. Groskinsky reconsidered.

“I’ll be a cop then,” he remembered thinking. At 18, he joked, he apparently believed police officers worked something close to nine-to-five hours. He would learn differently.

On Feb. 17, 1975, Groskinsky left home for basic training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri — a place soldiers commonly referred to as “Fort Lost in the Woods.” For an 18-year-old away from home for the first time, it was an adjustment.

There were weapons qualifications, physical training, inspections and the constant expectation that things would be done the Army way. There were also quieter thoughts. Groskinsky remembers wondering what his parents and sisters were doing, and even his dog crossed his mind.

Those thoughts did not change the assignment in front of him. “You still had a job to do,” he said.

After basic training, Groskinsky traveled to Fort Gordon, Georgia, for Advanced Individual Training as a military policeman. Looking back, he believes one of the most important lessons he learned was that leadership begins with understanding how to follow.

The military, he said, “gave me a purpose in life.” He learned to follow directions and then began thinking about what it would take to become a leader. Responsibility became something practical rather than theoretical: uniforms were prepared, equipment was maintained, orders mattered and time mattered.

“Fifteen minutes early is on time,” Groskinsky said. “On time is late.” It became a rule he carried through the rest of his working life.

After military police training, Groskinsky received orders for Panama. He knew almost nothing about the country when the orders arrived. After a short period of leave at home, he traveled south and entered a world far removed from Wisconsin.

His first assignment was at Quarry Heights, where senior military officers were common and appearance mattered. Brass needed to shine, leather gear needed to be polished, and an MP did not want to draw the wrong kind of attention from a colonel or general.

After roughly two months, Groskinsky moved to Fort Clayton with the 534th Military Police Company, while continuing to patrol areas throughout the Canal Zone. A typical shift began with guard mount — an inspection of the officers, their weapons, uniforms and equipment. From there, assignments might include a gate, vehicle patrol or walking a post.

For newer MPs, walking patrol was common, and the climate provided its own education. The barracks had no air conditioning. Groskinsky remembers lying on his bunk in temperatures above 100 degrees with a small fan moving air back and forth across him. Clothing and shoes left out too long could begin developing mold in the tropical humidity.

It was a long way from a hobby farm near Milladore, but the young man who eventually returned to Wisconsin was no longer quite the same person who had left.

To be continued.