The Aviator’s Watch; A History – Part 2

In this second part of our history of the aviator’s watch, we examine some of the most significant and iconic watches worn by those who conquered the skies - and eventually space.

The jet age began where the Second World War ended in 1945. Germany had already fielded the Messerschmitt Me 262, the world’s first operational jet-powered fighter aircraft, but lacked the resources to produce it in sufficient numbers to alter the course of the war.

As defeated Germany began to rebuild, the Soviet Union joined the nuclear weapons club and another, less bloody but potentially far more dangerous conflict began: the Cold War. Germany was divided, eventually becoming West Germany and East Germany, and found itself on the front line of a confrontation between East and West.

At the same time, aviation was developing at extraordinary speed and another contest was beginning above our heads: the race for space. Both created a growing demand for reliable, highly legible and increasingly specialised wristwatches.

Many of the great watches of the Cold War era were developed for military purposes. Others were created primarily for civilian aviation. And then there were the watches that left Earth altogether.

There are countless examples we could explore, so something has to give. Let’s begin with a story that relatively few people know, but one that deserves considerably more attention.

Lemania 

You may never have heard of Lemania, the now-defunct Swiss watch and movement manufacturer, but its contribution to military chronographs was considerable.

From the late 1940s and into the 1970s, Lemania supplied chronographs to the British Ministry of Defence. Fleet Air Arm and Royal Air Force pilots alike relied on various Lemania models issued during this period.

The early watches were beautifully simple, including single-pusher chronographs designed to minimise complexity. One button controlled the chronograph: fewer controls, fewer opportunities for error.

Towards the end of Lemania’s association with British military aviation came one of its most fascinating watches: the Royal Navy Ref. 818. Produced for only a short period, original examples are now extremely difficult to find in good condition.

The 818, based on the formidable Lemania Caliber 1872

The 818 was one of the most interesting chronographs created for military use. Unlike earlier Lemania chronographs, it featured two pushers — one for start/stop and another for reset.

Its asymmetrical case partially protected those pushers, while an oversized crown made winding easier. Everything about the watch was dictated by legibility, practicality and ease of operation.

It may have arrived towards the end of Lemania’s great period as a supplier to the British military, but in many respects the 818 represented the company at its best.

Lemania Caliber 1872

Rolex 

As you might expect, Rolex also played an important role in the history of aviation watches - although perhaps not entirely in the way Rolex itself would have planned.

There is a story of tremendous success and another of failure. The latter is largely forgotten, not least because the watch involved subsequently became one of the most famous chronographs ever made.

During the 1950s, long-distance commercial aviation expanded rapidly. Pilots crossing several time zones needed an easy way of keeping track of more than one local time.

At the forefront of this new era was Pan American World Airways - Pan Am - one of the great pioneers of international air travel. This was an age in which airline pilots enjoyed enormous prestige and aviation represented glamour, modernity and adventure.

The requirement to keep track of time across different time zones helped inspire one of the most recognisable watches ever made: the Rolex GMT-Master.

 

An early Rolex GMT-Master, reference 6542

In addition to the conventional hour, minute and seconds hands, the GMT-Master featured an additional hand completing one revolution every 24 hours. Combined with a rotating 24-hour bezel, the system allowed its wearer to keep track of multiple time zones.

The GMT-Master became famous for its black dial and two-colour blue-and-red bezel — later nicknamed the “Pepsi”. Early examples associated with Pan Am are highly sought after by collectors.

The GMT-Master remains one of the essential Rolex designs and is still part of the company’s collection today.

That was the success. What about the failure?

The clue can be found in another legendary Rolex: the Cosmograph.

During the early years of manned spaceflight, NASA subjected chronographs from several manufacturers to a punishing series of tests before selecting a watch suitable for its astronauts.

Rolex did not win.

Its Cosmograph would instead find its identity somewhere rather closer to Earth: motor racing. That association ultimately became so powerful that the watch became universally known by another name.

The Daytona.

As failures go, things could have turned out considerably worse.

Omega 

No watch brand is more closely associated with mankind’s journey to the Moon than Omega.

The Speedmaster was subjected to NASA’s extraordinary qualification testing during the 1960s and emerged as the watch selected for use by its astronauts.

A modern day version of the Omega Speedmaster that went to the moon

The tests were brutal. Watches were subjected to extreme heat and cold, near-vacuum conditions, humidity, pure oxygen, shock, acceleration, vibration and deafening acoustic noise.

This was not a test designed to establish whether a watch could survive everyday life.

NASA wanted to know whether it could survive space.

The manually wound Speedmaster did.

Its subsequent role in the Apollo programme, and particularly its presence on the Moon, transformed the Speedmaster from an already important chronograph into one of the most historically significant watches ever made.

More than half a century later, the relationship between Omega and space exploration remains central to the Speedmaster story.

Breitling

When it comes to aviation watches of the modern era, few brands have a stronger claim than Breitling.

We could choose several models, but one towers above the others: the Navitimer.

It is arguably the Breitling watch with the greatest combination of pedigree, longevity and instantly recognisable design.

Interestingly, aviation was not necessarily the destination Willy Breitling originally had in mind.

In 1934, Breitling patented a chronograph with two pushers — one controlling start and stop and another handling reset. But Willy Breitling wanted the company to do more than simply make watches for pilots.

His ambition was to combine the precision chronograph with a slide rule, creating a wrist-worn calculating instrument useful to engineers, scientists and other professionals.

That thinking produced the Chronomat.

 

Aviation, however, had other ideas.

In 1952, Breitling introduced the Navitimer, effectively adapting the slide-rule concept specifically for pilots. It became an enormous success during the great post-war expansion of commercial and military aviation.

Operating a slide rule properly is almost a science in itself and well beyond the scope of this article. But it is worth remembering that before electronic calculators and computers became commonplace, the slide rule was an extraordinarily powerful tool.

The Navitimer had another brush with history in the early 1960s.

Scott Carpenter, one of America’s original Mercury astronauts, asked Breitling to produce a version using a 24-hour dial rather than the conventional 12-hour display. In space, where the familiar rhythm of day and night disappears, the idea made perfect sense.

Breitling produced the watch and Carpenter wore it aboard Aurora 7 during his 1962 space flight.

The Navitimer remains one of Breitling’s defining watches. Beyond its distinctive appearance, it represents perhaps the ultimate expression of the mechanical aviation instrument before electronics changed everything.

Enoksen and watches for aviation

Aviation has always played an important role in the Enoksen story.

Our Fly range formed part of our original Five Watches philosophy, with models inspired by the early military watches developed for pilots.

When we created the Fly E03/D Chronograph back in 2019, however, we decided to approach things slightly differently.

We have always had a soft spot for the Lemania 818.

Rather than simply reproduce it, we asked ourselves a question:

What might the 818 have looked like if somebody had designed it today

We started with the case.

 

At 38mm, the original 818 was relatively substantial for its era. For the E03/D, where maximum legibility was one of our priorities, we chose 43mm.

We also imagined that a modern pilot would expect to wear the same watch away from the cockpit. That meant making it capable enough for swimming and other outdoor use, so we specified a screw-down crown and redesigned the chronograph pushers.

The original Lemania pushers were relatively thin and mushroom-shaped. We wanted something more substantial and robust. Together, these changes allowed us to increase water resistance from 30 metres to 100 metres.

Next came the crystal.

Mineral glass and Perspex certainly have their charms, but for a modern interpretation we wanted sapphire.

Then there were the lug pins. The original 818 used fixed bars, an excellent solution if the watch is permanently paired with a one-piece nylon strap. We wanted greater flexibility, so the E03/D used heavy-duty spring bars instead.

Leather, nylon, rubber, NATO or bracelet — the choice was left to the owner.

Finally, we came to the movement.

The original 818 contained the superb Lemania Calibre 1872. A comparable mechanical chronograph movement would, however, have pushed our watch into an entirely different price category.

We wanted the E03/D to remain accessible and genuinely usable, so we chose Seiko’s VK64 meca-quartz chronograph movement.

It is an interesting combination.

Quartz provides accurate everyday timekeeping, while the chronograph mechanism delivers much of the tactile character people associate with a traditional mechanical stopwatch, including the crisp reset of the chronograph hand.

The final decision concerned colour.

Rather than reproduce the black dial of the Lemania 818, we used the signature grey found on several Enoksen watches. White and light-orange details completed the design.

And with that, the experiment was finished. The E03/D was never intended to be a copy of the Lemania 818. It was our answer to a much more interesting question:

If you took the thinking behind one of the great military aviation chronographs and applied it to the requirements of a modern watch, where would you end up?

This was ours.