Who dares wears — watches of the SAS.

Given that this whole enterprise is named after the British military property mark, you knew this one was coming. The Special Air Service has existed since 1941, and in that time the Regiment’s wrists have carried pretty much the entire history of the tool watch — mostly without asking anyone’s permission. Here’s the tour.

The desert years: whatever worked

Stirling’s original desert raiders had no special-issue watch — they had whatever the Army handed out or whatever they’d brought from home, strapped over the sleeve and full of sand. The formal answer came in 1945 with the legendary W.W.W. spec — ‘Watch, Wrist, Waterproof’ — built by twelve makers collectors now call the Dirty Dozen. Broad arrow on the dial, broad arrow on the back. You may sense a theme we approve of.

The MilSub years: the good stuff

Push into the 60s and 70s and you reach the holy grail territory: military-issue Rolex Submariners — the 5513s and 5517s with sword hands, fixed bars, and fully-graduated bezels, issued to British forces and heavily associated with the maritime side of special operations (the pedants will note the SBS connection, and the pedants are welcome at this bench any time). A MilSub today is a six-figure unicorn. If one ever crosses our counter we will remain professional for approximately four seconds.

CWC and the great quartz sobering-up

By 1980 the MoD had discovered what every quartermaster eventually discovers: soldiers lose watches, and issuing Rolexes is a spectacular way to go broke. Enter CWC — first the W10 mechanical, then the G10 quartz, tens of thousands of them, brutally fit for purpose and about as glamorous as a mess tin. They’re also, whisper it, one of the great value vintage military buys today. Broad arrow on the back, naturally.

The modern Regiment: rubber, resin, silence

And the current chapter? Ask anyone who served through the 90s: the real special-forces watch of the modern era is the Casio G-Shock — cheap, indestructible, disposable, and it doesn’t glint when you’d rather it didn’t. These days it shares the wrist with muted Garmins and Suuntos. From a £100,000 MilSub to a £90 G-Shock: proof, as if the bench needed it, that a proper tool watch is defined by the job — never the price tag.

We keep an eye out for honest military pieces of every era — Dirty Dozen, CWCs, the lot. If grandad’s W10 is in a drawer doing nothing, you know where the Sell page is. Fixed bars and all.

Broad Arrow Watchworks — from the bench