When I first came across MWC, I wrongfully assumed they were an homage brand that made nice-looking reproductions of famous mil-spec watches. Yes, much of what they make looks familiar, even if you haven’t heard of MWC before, but there’s more to the company than is evident from a quick scan of their products. While MWC isn’t particularly great about telling their story, they produce several watches that carry NSN (NATO Stock Number) designation, and provide manufacture and assembly services to other brands. In short, they’ve got a more robust operation than I initially assumed, and one with direct mil-spec provenance.
I’ve previously professed my skepticism over the costume-play of military-inspired watches. There’s a lot of grandstanding on shaky ground and design redundancy. The latter is the logical result of the constraints imposed by military design briefs, boosted by the continued immense popularity of timepieces with military origins. Though logical, the dynamic makes for a stale market, generally considered – the dozens of Dirty Dozen interpretations being a prime example. The military-inspired, and actual mil-spec watches that appeal to me do so because they cut a tangent to the more popular archetypes. The MWC G10BH, particularly the 1982-1999 pattern reviewed herein, fits that intrepid mold.
If I asked you to describe a military field watch, odds are you’d arrive at something similar to the aforementioned Dirty Dozen, or something reminiscent of a Hamilton Khaki Mechanical. A traditional rounded case with elongated arcing lugs, a round fixed bezel, and a highly legible dial that emphasizes Arabic-numeral hour markers. You might include a 24-hour printed scale, maybe a small-seconds subdial, and high-contrast hands, but nothing as revelatory as the Prevail Onward.
The MWC G10BH, seemingly despite my claims of its intrepidness, picks up on several of those common elements. It has a rounded, swooping case with elongated, arcing lugs; a 24-hour scale; highly legible Arabic numerals for hour markers; and high-contrast hands. Its uniqueness really comes down to one element – its 12-sided fixed bezel. With one flourish, the G10BH is transformed from an also-ran to a standout performer. I can’t think of a functional reason for the dodecagonal bezel, but I love it. Like the rest of the G10BH’s case, the bezel is finished in matte-black PVD, but its sharp upper and lower facets subtly play with light to give the bezel a subtle luster.
I’m less enthused about the polished outer surface of the crown, which would look more cohesive if it were finished in the same matte finish as the case. Functionally, the crown helps the G10BH achieve 50m of water resistance, which is sufficient, if unremarkable, for a field watch. Other field watches from MWC are rated to 100m, though, so it stands to reason that the brand could upgrade some gaskets, maybe the crown itself, and add some additional peace of mind to this model.
That extra water resistance would be especially helpful, because you may forget you are wearing the G10BH Dodecagon (my working title) and incur unexpected water ingress.
It is always interesting to me how specs often don’t convey how a watch actually wears. I’ve worn 36mm watches that felt substantial, visually and physically, belying their measurements. The Dodecagon does neither, and wears so unobtrusively that I forgot I was wearing it on multiple occasions. Visually, it wears diminutively in the manner of a mid-century dress watch. As for its weight, its lightness convinced me that it was constructed of titanium. I shouldn’t have been so surprised, though, given the watch’s extremely tidy 36mm x 42.5mm x 12.1mm dimensions. You may question the overall height, but know that 2mm+ of that dimension is the domed acrylic crystal. I love the vintage vibes imparted by the crystal, even if it makes photographing the watch a more painful exercise.
The protruding plexiglass porthole frames the aforementioned archetypal field watch dial design. A 60-mark scale surrounds the perimeter of the dial, with inwardly pointed green triangles at the 5-minute intervals, and crisply-printed white hashes nested between. Inboard of the triangles are the boldest-printed elements of the dial, the lumed Arabic markers for one through twelve, excluding three o’clock, which gets a white-bordered date window. Immediately inset from that scale are finely-printed hour markers for thirteen through 24, to complete the day’s hours.
The brand logo and other identifying text elements are centrally placed above and below the pinion. The printing decisions, particularly font size, prevent these elements from overly cluttering the dial, but there is still a lot of text. The dial design could be decluttered by removing the “Military Quartz” designation, shifting the encircled T below the pinion, and leaving the MWC text logo as the lone central element above the pinion. Going further, replacing the encircled “T” with an “L” would be more genuine, given the re-edition doesn’t use tritium, and would still impart the mil-spec origins. Relaxing my dial design pedantry, the layout is cohesive and balanced, and each element is well-executed, including the surprisingly strong lume.
Moving about the dial are white-bordered, lume-filled pencil hands for the hours and minutes, and a white-painted stick of a seconds hand. There’s nothing innovative here, just good execution of a familiar motif. Driving the hands around the dial is the Ronda 705. The 705 is a metal-constructed, repairable movement with a 60-month battery accessed through the convenient battery hatch that gives the watch its “BH” designation. 5 years between battery swaps is notably long, and it is nice to know that the movement need not be discarded should it require a fix. The main shortcoming is accuracy, which isn’t particularly impressive for a quartz movement at -10/ +20 seconds per month. You may disagree with the tradeoff MWC chose – longevity for accuracy – but credit to the brand for using a higher-grade quartz movement that provides a value add over replacement-grade alternatives.
Replacement-grade is a good way to describe the strap the Dodecagon ships on. It is a medium-weight nylon NATO strap with very lightweight matte black hardware. In this instance, lightweight isn’t a good thing, as the metal elements feel cheap compared to the heavier nylon. Usually, I don’t worry much about OE straps I don’t like, but given the Dodecagon’s 19mm lugs and black case, matching aftermarket options are a challenge to find. You’re further limited to pass-through straps, due to the fixed lugs. Fortunately, the watch strap maestros at Crown & Buckle make their Uniform Matte Supreme in 19mm width, with black PVD hardware.
The MWC G10BH reissue does a lot of things well, and the few things it falls short on aren’t glaring. At $169 USD (at the moment of writing, we take no accountability at The Time Bum for the currency madness of our times), the watch isn’t a value champion, but it also isn’t overly priced. It competes well with Timex’s mechanical MK1, particularly if you, like me, aren’t convinced that mechanical movements are inherently better than quartz. If you’re looking for a capable field watch but want a less vanilla-flavored option, the G10BH Dodecagon is an appealing option and a fun little watch.
