About

There’s a common saying out there about everyone’s favorite brutish diver: You always know a Doxa when you see one. In all honesty, you almost have to go out of your way not to see it – the sawtooth bezel and typically colorful dial make for a distinctive profile. A Doxa is one of those watches, the type that causes an autoimmune reaction in an experienced enthusiast and compels them to ask you with polite certainty if it is exactly what they already know it to be. With their question comes a vested interest in knowing why you picked the brand; Doxas aren’t exactly casual, and a milestone shopper would likely only choose one over a Submariner if some cosmic power deemed it necessary for the family lore.
It is, therefore, an interesting dynamic that Doxas are equal parts recognizable and rare in the wild. You could feasibly go your whole life thinking that Doxa is just the Sub 300T Professional (I know this because I used to be that person). However, the 300T is not the ocean in a drop that it appears to be. Over the decades, Doxa has withstood a consistently inconsistent string of corporate owners while building a prolific catalogue. In 2022, the company elected to bring back what is perhaps its most obscure model through both limited and non-limited channels: the Army. Created for Swiss dive commandos, the Army looked every bit a Doxa that didn’t quite understand the dress code with its cloaked finish and exotic dial. Almost 50 years later, it remains iconic enough that a dedicated cult of Armeetaucher devotees still adore it today.


As it stands, I am a card-carrying member of this group: If I could will any Doxa into my collection, it would be a vintage Army with its original finish intact. However, that type of obscure acquisition would probably require a bank loan or some sort of blood pact (arguably the same thing), and so I have elected to go after the next best option in Doxa’s modern stainless steel version. After spending ample time with the Army, I find myself positively enamored with it. At a minimum, I find it to be a memorably polarizing watch with strong daily utility. At best? It might be my favorite modern Doxa. Let’s jump in.
Punctuality for Frogs

In 1964, Urs Eschle and Doxa’s product team began developing the company’s first-ever dive watch. Incorporating feedback from Jacques Cousteau and the U.S. Divers Company along the way, they released the Sub 300 at the Basel Watch Fair in 1967. The Sub was notable for several non-traditional design elements. It had a bright orange dial, asymmetrical hand sizing with a dwarf hour hand (thus drawing attention to the minutes), and a tonneau or cushion case shape. The pièce de résistance was the Sub’s rugged sawtooth bezel: using Doxa’s patented dual-scale, no-deco setup, divers could calculate their maximum time underwater without having to make decompression stops on the way back up.


From the 300 grew the Sub 300T and more expensive Sub 300T Conquistador. The latter was distinguished by its “HRV” or helium release valve at nine o’clock, a feature specifically useful for saturation divers who wanted to avoid blowing the crystal off their watch during decompression. Both watches featured beefier case proportions, water resistance of 1,200 meters, and a flatter crystal. Like before, the sawtooth no-deco bezel remained the crowning feature between the two versions. The Conquistador didn’t last long post-release in 1968 – Doxa was further along with their HRV design, but Rolex was speedier to the patent office – and the 300T Conquistador disappeared relatively quickly after Rolex was awarded the patent in 1970.
Doxa’s relationship with Cousteau and the U.S. Divers Company is well-documented – it accelerated the creation of the 300, after all – but it isn’t the only notable partnership of the era. There is, in fact, another that comes right on its heels: Doxa’s contract with the Swiss army to provide watches for their 1966-vintage combat diving unit. In 1968, as those frogmen began training, the Sub 300T Professional became the unit’s official watch. Between then and 1975, the Swiss army issued 146 Sub 300Ts to the unit. However, the 300T was not the only model that Doxa supplied for Switzerland’s procurement efforts. Doxa quickly followed up with a second, service-themed model that conspicuously bore a new target reticle logo and the name “Army” on the dial between four and five o’clock.

The Army was simultaneously built upon and visually distinct from the 300T of the day. Underneath its mineral crystal, the Army featured an exotic, sand-beige checkerboard dial that was much busier than Doxa’s standard crosshair layout. The bezel was a radical departure towards something more conventional; ditching the no-deco setup, the Army instead used a fully graduated, 60-click countdown bezel with an acrylic insert. Last but not least, the handset was also adjusted; gone was the classic dwarf hour hand in favor of a stout house-shaped pointer, while the second hand was morphed into something resembling a GMT-Master-style arrow hand.


Perhaps the most striking feature of the original Army was its blackened case, for which there is as much discourse on the finishing method as there is on the existence of the watch itself. Most surviving examples (of which there are precious few) have lost their finishing, which generated speculation that certain specimens had been produced without any finishing at all. Cole Pennington’s great journalistic work on Hodinkee from a few years ago uncovered the true vehicle for oxidizing the case: oil-dipping with heat treatment. Far less durable than PVD, the oil dip method explains why the vast majority of Armies have gone commando and only retain slight traces of their original finish.
Despite its name and intent, the Army wasn’t popular with Switzerland’s combat divers. Doxa’s blog tells us that, by getting in touch with several retired commandos, the company learned that the unit generally preferred the 300T. Apparently, the Army was worn more regularly (albeit not exclusively) by logistical support staff like medics or clerks who helped keep the unit operational. Unfortunately, we know precious little about how many Armies were made or even procured for military use. Over the course of chatting about the Army with everyone’s favorite Doxaphile James Lamdin, I learned that this information would have resided within Doxa’s archives. Unfortunately, those archives were destroyed by flooding in the 80s, well before the Jenny family took control in 1997. James also confirmed anecdotally that the Army was anything but promiscuous; he has seen maybe a dozen Armies total, only three of which had their coating fully intact. Regardless of what Doxa’s archives could have told us, I’m confident the number of Armies made is not significant.

The details of how this idiosyncratic reference was received by the diving unit raise an interesting question: if the Army had arrived first with the 300T as its sequel, would it have achieved a higher rate of field adoption through the benefit of familiarity? If it also hadn’t said Army on the dial – and I do wonder which big-brained executive at Synchron or Doxa signed off on this branding – would that also have boosted its adoption as a less on-the-nose piece of field kit? My gut check says no – the usefulness of Doxa’s no-deco bezel (aggressive as it was in utilizing early USN dive tables) versus the simpler arithmetic of the countdown bezel likely would have relegated the Army onto the wrists of medics either way. Regardless of the possible outcome, such counterfactuals are fun to consider.
An Army of Armies

This type of shoehorning can feel reductive, but I think vintage watches generally fall into one of two categories: either they have consistent, uncontested genealogies where you can trace the lineage’s metallurgy, or they disappeared in the primordial black hole that was the Quartz Crisis and were resurrected in this century as part of a heritage product strategy. An example of the former is the Rolex Submariner; you can study uninterrupted from the ref. 6204, the first watch to sport Submariner on the dial, all the way to the luxury six-digit perfectionists of the 21st century. An example of the latter is Doxa’s Sub 300T, which went away in the early 80s and resurfaced as a concept with Rick Marei’s efforts at the turn of the century. An example of the latter by a factor of ten is the Army. For Doxa nerds wanting to experience an exceptionally rare deep cut, your best shot to feel some military magic is in the reissue editions.

The modern Army comes in a quartet of reincarnated varietals, three of which are current production models. They represent varying degrees of aesthetic and material faithfulness, with changes in that second department largely representing durability upgrades over the components used for the original Army. Doxa’s matte black ceramic collaboration with Watches of Switzerland from April 2022 kick-started the Army’s rebirth. Doxa then followed up with two standard models chiseled from 316L stainless steel in October 2022, offering the Army with either a steel bezel and black ceramic insert or a bronze bezel and hunter green ceramic insert. That steel duo became a trio in March 2023, when Doxa elected to mix the two by combining the steel bezel and hunter green ceramic insert together.
I like to think of the Army across all four references as something of a chimera. As a group, they are unified in drawing on a hybrid set of characteristics representing the original Army as well as Doxa’s two most popular branches of the family tree in the 300T and 300. You can see DNA from the former baked in with the flat crystal as well as the case design, which measures similarly at 42.5mm wide by 44.5mm at the lugs. However, the overall height being just 11.95mm – a significant reduction in thickness compared to both the 300T (13.65mm) and 300 (13.4mm) – gives the Army family a unique case profile. In relation to the 300 side of Doxa’s family tree, both the 300 and Army sport 300 meters of water resistance.


From the Army of yore come the most recognizable features of the Army of today. The exotic checkerboard dial with the Army name and original logo remains a standout feature, with the logo also reappearing on the caseback instead of the Jenny fish (which in turn only appears on the signed screwdown crown). The Army also still has its unidirectional countdown bezel in flanking position around the sapphire crystal; while the ceramic insert is the most obvious change, the click count was also adjusted from 60 clicks to 120 clicks to match Doxa’s other models.
Where the esprit de corps begins to strain under the weight of individuality is case material and applicability towards saturation diving. The key anchor point for comparison is the Watches of Switzerland Army, which was limited in production scope to 100 pieces. This version is the most aesthetically faithful reference for obvious reasons; while the other models are steel, the WoS Army uses a matte black ceramic case that emulates the stealthy tonality of the original Army’s heat-treated oil dip finish. Equally important is the lack of a port side HEV (helium escape valve, modern nomenclature for the HRV), which is authentic to the original Army as a 300T derivative. After the 300T Conquistador, no Doxas incorporated an HEV into their design until 2010. Finally, the WoS Army is rated for COSC at -4/+6 seconds per day; the stainless steel Armies appear to lose that rating based on Doxa’s website.



You obviously can’t buy the WoS edition new anymore – it occasionally comes up for sale on the secondary market, but isn’t an “at-will” type of reference. All three steel models can still be found on Doxa’s website, however, and if you are willing to let the lack of a stealth aesthetic slide or simply prefer bare steel to begin with, you can have a lot of fun with a watch that isn’t seen very often out in the wild. As of this article, the bronze bezel Army holds a slight price premium at $2,490 USD on a beads-of-rice bracelet, while the steel bezel models are priced slightly lower at $2,290 USD. Whether you select the bracelet or not, you also get the benefit of an FKM rubber strap as well as an Alpenflage NATO strap that matches the modern and vintage presentation containers.
A Tactical Assessment

So what is the Army like in the metal? I must admit that my feeling articulated at the beginning of this post – that the Army is my favorite modern Doxa – was not an immediate one. My brain needed a day to subconsciously compute that this strange military diver is, in fact, from the same brand that is synonymous with the no-deco bezel. It took a tropic strap, some thinking, and more than a few sessions on the wrist for me to appreciate a watch that I assumed I would love without delay.
Construction-wise, the Army feels well-built. The bezel is properly aligned and has no play, while the inset screwdown crown is sufficiently grooved so as not to require significant dexterity to manipulate. The case, which sports alternating brushed and polished finishing, brings a very familiar Doxa wearability quotient. I’m keen to describe the Army (and most Doxas by extension) as a large watch that wears medium – a 42.5mm case can be imposing and scare off slender wrists, but there simply isn’t much additional real estate in the lugs (2mm total) to threaten overhang. If you are on the fence, the Army with its reduced thickness makes for a very approachable full-size Doxa.


Perhaps less approachable upfront and meant for more discerning tastes is the Army’s checkerboard dial. Put bluntly, it is a legible peacock. Never have I ever met a watch whose je ne sais quoi was such a double-edged sword; the Army attracts comments of all stripes, which fall along the continuum of complimentary, curious, or laced with spice. I find the reactions understandable; exotic dial layouts aren’t exactly making a comeback, and not everyone enjoys a good Terra Firma color palette like yours truly. If you can learn to appreciate the Army’s Black and Tan, however, it is a nice counterbalance to the Sub Professional’s Aperol Spritz. What I mean by that is that the Army’s muted coloration has a built-in resistance to Doxa’s stereotyping as a “summer watch” brand. It’s a season-agnostic time keeper whose surprising versatility is hidden behind the dial pattern.

One area where the Army shines over no-deco Subs is its generous application of lume. The Army may not be Doxa’s official rebuttal to complaints that their designs don’t use enough luminous material, but it feels like a step in the right direction for those seeking a Doxa with better nighttime visibility. With the Army, all of the indices actually extend back into the minute track, so you get slightly more surface area in the aggregate than on the 300T (although the six and nine o’clock indices on the 300T might be wider than their counterparts on the Army). The biggest degree of separation comes with the ceramic insert bezel: all five numerals plus the dive triangle are lumed in a sand color that matches the dial. The Army glows like a torch, and you can read it more effectively than a traditional no-deco Doxa.
One area where I wish the Army didn’t shine: the steel case. Call it the historical purist in me, but there’s something slightly off about the finish not being black; it almost feels like the watch left the factory having skipped a critical step. I acknowledge the need for broad marketability – the WoS Army fulfilled the niche enthusiast mandate at the time, and steel addresses a wider audience in the way that Doxa needs it to for sales. I also harbor no personal inclination for ceramic or PVD-coated watches in my collection. Plainly speaking, I simply want an Army that is as close to its original spec as possible. Perhaps a WoS Army will present itself at an offensively low price in the future; for now, I’m content to enjoy the steel Army while googling aftermarket coating services on the side.


My deep-seated urge to paint the Army black raises a second question: Who is the Army for? It remains now, as it did back in the 70s, a niche watch with a cult fan base. I think it is a safe assumption that the average buyer is a non-average watch enthusiast with an established appreciation for Doxa lore. Said group is a dedicated one; it is full of Doxa nerds who see the Army as a historical frontier to be experienced. Unfortunately, said group is also a small one. I worry for the longevity of the Army as a result; the original model was not a popular one, and the recipe in today’s era hasn’t drastically changed. Barring an expansion of the Army’s marketing budget, I fear its potential for a healthy production run (i.e., a decade or more) is limited.
I’d like to posit an idea for those who are Army-curious, those courageous few waging a mental battle on the front line between their wallet and an internet cart. Consider the Army’s characteristics once more and with vigor. Prolific application of lume. Improved thinness in relation to the mainstream Subs. A fully graduated, scratch-proof, lumed countdown bezel with excellent applicability for timing daily activities. Monochromatic dial coloring that can withstand the seasons. A workhorse Sellita SW 200-1 with hacking and a quickset date that can easily be serviced. When you add it all up, Doxa’s weirdest watch might also be one of its most usable.

To be fair, Doxa does make visually gentler watches for daily wear. The no-deco Subs, particularly the 300 and 300T, are stalwarts of the lineup. There’s also the smaller Sub 200T, which is proportionally compelling at 10.7mm tall with a 39mm by 41.5mm lug-to-lug wingspan. They are all compromised in some way: Only one of those watches is COSC-rated, two of them are chunkier than the Army, and all three of them are weaker on the lume front. You could theoretically drop the T on that last watch and move into a product squared at a very different type of customer, the more conventional Sub 200. But the optional sapphire bezel’s lume is reportedly inconsistent, and its case is the thickest of all watches mentioned at 13.8mm. The 200 also isn’t exactly what I would call an earnest Sub – the model is historic, but the case is of Huguenin Frères origin and was also used by Omega and Eberhard. If you want a Doxa that features the iconic Sub profile, uses modern materials to alleviate past concerns, and carries an unimpeachable look, the Army might very well fulfill the quota.
To put a bow on it: I love the Army. The first generation never got its flowers, being the dual private-public sector flop that it was, and the second generation continues to fly under the radar several years after its release. Across both eras, it retains both its niche appeal and that trademark style that causes watch lovers to say “Huh.” It is a surprisingly practical watch that, if you can get past its avant-garde appearance, will reward you with its hidden capacity to be a daily companion. Take the Army out on parade – I guarantee you will be richer for it.
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To learn more about the Army, please check out Doxa’s website.






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