If you’re a regular visitor of my website, you already know that I started my watch collecting journey by exploring Soviet watches. However, I abandoned that collection years ago and shifted my focus primarily to the world of mechanical wrist alarm watches. In building and researching my alarm watch collection, I’ve relied heavily on the two reference books I mention here. But even though Beitl’s book in particular is a true encyclopedia of alarm watches, it omits one watch that remains unknown to most alarm collectors—at least outside of Russia. The only reason I even know of its existence is thanks to my earlier collecting passion for Soviet watches. As the title already suggests, I’m talking about the Raketa 3031 alarm watch.
A collector friend of mine, who I dare say is one of the most knowledgeable experts on Soviet watches and also a skilled watchmaker, brought this watch to my attention years ago. Ever since, I’ve hoped it would one day become part of my (then Soviet-focused) collection. Naturally, once I shifted my attention to alarm watches, my desire for this model only grew. However, all the pieces that ever appeared for sale were almost exclusively available in Russia, and reaching them was complicated—especially after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Fortunately, this year, that wish finally came true. And now that the watch is in my hands, I’m excited to share it with you in full detail.
Let me start with a short history. Verified sources are scarce, but the most reliable one is the YouTube channel of Dmitry Brodnikovsky, son of Alexander Brodnikovsky, a well known collector among Soviet watch collectors. According to Dmitry, the Raketa 3031 was developed in the early 1970s. The first 100 watches were released to the market at the beginning of 1973, followed by an additional 200 pieces in 1974–1975, when the watch was also featured in Raketa’s catalog under the reference 3031/330318. According to Dmitry, the chief movement designer, Mrs. Lyudmila Vajnek, confirmed that this was the total number of watches ever produced. Rumors about a further batch of 2,000 watches or a reissue in the 1980s are therefore false.
All watches were sold exclusively at the Raketa store in Leningrad (now St. Petersburg), and they were extremely expensive— the price was higher than of standard gold watches. It is supposed, that the main reason for the high price was the complexity of the movement, which was never placed into serial production. Instead, each watch was assembled in the so-called “laboratory of reliability.” Only Raketa’s most experienced watchmakers worked there, and their main task was not production, so the annual output was extremely limited.
During the development of the 3031, at least three different design variants were created. Two were designed using standard cases (I’ll talk more about my watch’s case later), but only the version you see here was released for sale. It’s worth noting that in one of his videos, Dmitry shows what appears to be this “final” version, but with a different seconds hand (featuring a pointer end). I’m not sure whether that hand was replaced later or if this represents a fourth variant.
Before I turn to the watch itself, let me briefly explain something for readers unfamiliar with Soviet watch manufacturing—namely, what the designation 3031 means. It’s simply the reference number of the movement, based on the standard Soviet classification system. According to this system, the first two digits indicate the diameter of the movement, while the second two (sometimes three) specify the movement’s technical features and complications. In this case, 30 represents the movement’s diameter in millimeters, and 31 indicates an automatic movement with day-date complications, a mechanical alarm, and shock protection. As an interesting side note, this watch was so rare that Vostok later “reused” the number 31 to label a completely different movement (the Vostok 2431B). In fact, across the entire Soviet movement coding system, 31 is the only number that refers to two completely different movement types. You can check the full Soviet movement coding system here.
Standard Raketa 3031/330318 as shown in the catalogue
3031 accompanied by the three different versions of Seiko Bell-Matic from my collection
Let’s now turn to the watch itself. At first glance, any fan of alarm watches will immediately notice the design’s strong resemblance to the Seiko Bell-Matic. Perhaps the most familiar-looking element is the inner rotating bezel used to set the alarm, which closely mirrors the system found in the Seiko Bell-Matic, as well as the positioning of the day and date windows. Given that the Raketa 3031 was developed several years after the Bell-Matic was released to the market, it’s unclear whether this similarity is purely coincidental—or, more likely, if the Bell-Matic served as direct inspiration for this watch. Interestingly, collectors often affectionately refer 3031 as the “Raketa Seiko.” What is also surprising is that - according to Dimitry - the steel used for the Raketa 3031 cases was reportedly imported from Japan. Why Raketa needed the steel from Japan is unknown to me. I must admit that I hardly believe this to be true.
From a technical standpoint, the inner alarm ring is mounted on the movement in much the same way as in the Bell-Matic. However, the similarities with Seiko end there—everything else is entirely different.
Red alarm pointer on the inner bezel
Placement of the alarm inner bezel
The construction of the steel case is highly unusual, especially the case back. It somewhat reminds me of the Zeno Basel Deep Diver. The domed acrylic glass (which has a small crack on my watch) extends over the conical case. What is particularly unusual is that the lugs are integrated into the case back rather than the case body itself. (Note: experimental versions had the lugs attached to the case in the standard way. Why the final version ended up using this unconventional construction instead of the standard one remains unknown.)
The case back is secured with a ring, a common construction solution in Soviet watch production. There is no text of any kind, neither on the inside nor outside of the case back.
Side views of the watch.
Back plate with the mounting ring. Strap does not need to be removed in order to unscrew the ring.
Outer and inner side of the backplate
The lugs themselves elevate the case above the wrist, likely intentionally, so the sound of the alarm isn't muffled. However, since they are angled downward (practically under the case), the watch has a relatively short lug-to-lug distance despite its substantial size. Specifically, while the case diameter is 42mm, the L2L is only 40mm. That said, due to the rather thick construction (15.7mm including the crystal), the watch appears even thicker on the wrist and feels more like an 18mm-thick watch. For reference, the lug width is 20mm.
The entire dial and hand design is very much in the spirit of the 1970s and Soviet design language, but with surpisingly clean dial. No "signal" or "alarm" indication, no number of jewels designation, just Raketa and "Sdelano v SSSR". The hands and indices are filled with lume, which, even after all these years, still glows. Not very brightly, but enough to read the time in the dark. To conclude the exterior description, it's worth noting that the watch only exists with Cyrillic script: Raketa is written in Cyrillic on the dial, and all days of the week are displayed in Russian/Cyrillic only—there is no bilingual day of the week option.
Let’s now turn our attention to the inside of the watch and explore the construction of this movement, which has been described as one of the most complex ever produced in the Soviet Union.
The presence of two crowns already suggests that the movement has two separate spring barrels—one for the timekeeping mechanism and one for the alarm module. The timekeeping part is powered by automatic winding with a ball-bearing rotor. The alarm spring barrel, however, is wound manually.
It might be interesting to explain the condition in which I received the watch. The seller had already mentioned before the sale that the automatic mechanism was not working but that the original rotor part was included. Everything else was supposedly fully functional. When I received the watch, I was surprised to find that not only was the automatic winding non-functional, but the watch had actually been converted to manual winding (I reached the winding limit by turning the crown). Furthermore, the alarm was working inconsistently—it would sometimes - but not always - ring if I manually advanced the hands into the alarm position, but it never rang when the watch reached the alarm time by itself.
At that point, my watchmaker friend stepped in.
Two crowns indicating two spring barrels
He quickly discovered that the watch had previously been serviced very unprofessionally. The automatic module was blocking the movement because one pin was out of position, interfering with the gear train. The previous watchmaker believed that the automatic module was pressing on the gear train and attempted to fix it by grinding down the parts from the inside to reduce the thickness. In reality, the issue could have been solved simply by repositioning the pin correctly. Additionally, the teeth on the gear train responsible for transferring power from the rotor to the mainspring barrel were so worn down that automatic winding no longer functioned. As a workaround, the previous watchmaker converted the watch to manual winding, increasing the available power reserve for hand-winding instead.
The movement in the condition as received from the seller
Fortunately, the entire timekeeping mechanism is partialy based on the Raketa 2627.H automatic movement where the automatic module is in fact identical. So, in addition to repositioning the misaligned pin, my watchmaker was able to fix all other issues with the automatic winding using spare parts from one of the 2627.H-based watches in his collection. Incidentally, the 3031 also shares the same day/date module layout with the 2627.H. One interesting feature of this module is that both the day and the date jump synchronously—see the video. The day advances only when passing midnight, while the date can be quick-set using a slightly unusual method: pulling the lower crown (used for time setting) from position 1 to position 2 and then returning it to position 1.
As I already started explaining the functions of the lower crown - in position 0 you can hand wind the (time) movement, in position 1 you set the time. Time can be set in both directions however you can not pass the alarm position with the hour hand if setting time backwards! That is quite common feature in many alarm watch movements. If you really have to set time backwards and need to go over alarm pointer, then you first set the hour hand up to the alarm pointer, then move alarm to the different position and then move on with the hour hand.
Going back to the service of my watch... With the spare parts from 2627.H doner watch, the automatic winding was restored to full working order fairly quickly. The alarm module, however, required a bit more investigation and effort. One might expect the alarm module to be a variation of an existing one from that era—the most obvious candidate would be the Poljot 2612.1, which was the most widely used Soviet alarm movement at the time. But in reality, the alarm module is entirely unique. Since there are no known technical schematics for this movement, my watchmaker spent quite some time studying its inner workings and diagnosing what wasn’t functioning properly.
In fact, the alarm module in my watch wasn’t really broken—most of the issues came down to wrong understanding of alarm operation on my part. So, how does the mechanism work? All alarm functions are controlled via the upper crown. In position 0, you wind the alarm spring. In position 1, you set the alarm time—this must be done counterclockwise. Technically, you can also rotate it clockwise, but only to the current hour hand position, which can not be passed clockwise.
Each time you pull the crown into position 1, that pull also blocks the alarm from ringing. The alarm is released not by returning the crown to position 0, but by winding the alarm. So, to ensure that alarm rings, you must first set the time you want the alarm to ring, followed by the winding to release the block.
Let me illustrate with an example: suppose I want the alarm to ring at 7:00 AM. First, I set the alarm pointer to 7:00, then I wind the alarm. At 7:00, the alarm will ring. It will continue to ring either until winds down completely, or I interrupt it manually by pulling the crown to position 1. In either case, the alarm won’t ring again at 7:00 PM or later—either because the spring barell is empty, or because the ringing is still blocked. To enable it again for the next morning, I must wind the alarm spring after 7:00 PM. In the first case, I wind it fully; in the second case, just a slight wind is enough to release the block.
While this method of enabling the alarm by winding may seem unique, it actually isn’t. Similar functionality is found in some other alarm movements—like the Lagendorf 1241 (used in Lanco-fon watches), or (even more similar) in MST-Roamer movements. The only important difference is that stated alarms both have indicator showing the status of alarm (on or off) while here in Raketa there is no one. So if you are unsure about the status, you either need to wind it a bit (activate) or pull the crown out and back (deactivate). Nevertheless, I got used to operating this alarm mechanism fairly quickly.
That said, there was one actual fault in the alarm module: the alarm would not trigger when the watch naturally reached the alarm time. This particular issue took the most time to resolve. In the end, the watchmaker discovered that a single component had been incorrectly installed.
Now, the watch is fully functional. Since the watchmaker completely disassembled and serviced it, I can also share a few detailed photos of the movement—both from the front and the back.
Front size of the movement
Back side of the movement with the rotor in different position
What’s striking is that, unlike most Soviet watchmaking, much care was taken in finishing individual components. Take the alarm hammer, for example—it's nicely beveled and decorated. They also aimed to improve loudness and resonance of the alarm: a large curved steel rod spans across more than half of the movement, to which the hammer strikes. While this was clearly intended to amplify the sound, in reality it doesn’t make much of a difference—the watch buzzes similarly to the Poljot 2612.1, where the hammer strikes a pin placed on a backplate and almost in the middle of the movement.
How the alarm sounds and how long does it ring can be seen in the video. Alarm spring was fully winded..
Back side of the movement. Note the hammer and the metal rod.
Decorated hammer
Lastly, a small note: of course, the original gasket is long gone. The type originally used on this watch isn’t available anymore, so a generic gasket of suitable diameter has been installed. The original gasket was wider and flatter. Although the watch was originally rated for water resistance (I believe 50 meters), I have no intention of testing it—dust resistance is good enough for me.
As I already mentioned, the movement is based on the 2627.H caliber, so it’s no surprise that it shares similar characteristics. It beats slowly at 18,000 A/h and can be regulated via the hairspring key. I must admit, the watch is surprisingly accurate—after some adjustment, I managed to get it running consistently between +5 and -5 seconds per day with regular 24-hour wear. However, it is sensitive to positional variations, which is evident from the fact that it gains time one day and loses it the next. Still, after a full week of wear, there's no need to reset the time.
The rotor winds the movement bidirectionally, and when fully wound, the power reserve lasts around 38–40 hours. As indicated on the bridge, the movement features 33 jewels.
Gasket (non original)
Of course, you're probably wondering how the watch feels on the wrist. I may not be the most objective person here as I enjoy larger, more extravagant and massive watches. So for me, wearing this watch poses no issue at all. Sure, you can’t hide it under a shirt cuff, but it’s perfectly comfortable for casual everyday use. I even sleep with it on without any trouble. Despite its size, the watch is actually quite light—just 78 grams including the strap. In short, it's far more wearable than you might expect.
Now that I’ve had the chance to explore this watch in depth, I’m even more puzzled by all the myths I've read about it—and even more baffled as to why so few were ever made. The story that this was an extremely complicated movement built only by the most skilled Raketa watchmakers in a special workshop doesn’t fully convince me. The movement simply isn’t that complex. I’m more inclined to believe that the high price point was the main reason it failed to succeed commercially. Given its features, it faced serious competition from the Poljot alarm watches, which were far cheaper and proved to be reliable.
Also, the Raketa 3031 was unusual, even by Soviet standards—it was very large for its time and had a unique design (and I mean that in a neutral sense, considering how many Soviet watches had unconventional and often kitschy aesthetics). Furthermore, it was released at a time when quartz watches with alarms were starting to appear in the USSR—although, admittedly, those were prohibitively expensive.
It’s also worth noting that the Poljot 2612.1 was just a slightly modified clone of the A. Schild AS1475, whereas the Raketa 3031 was a completely original development with unique solutions. (BTW.: if you are interested in Poljot 2612.1, you can read all about it here.) In any case, it’s remarkable that Soviet watchmaking produced two alarm movements—one, the Poljot 2612.1, became the most mass-produced mechanical alarm movement in the world of all time, while the other, the Raketa 3031, remains one of the rarest.
Raketa, surrounded by some of my Poljot 2612.1 watches in various designs and from different periods
Naturally, this is reflected in availability and price. You can still find nice vintage Poljot alarms online for around 100 EUR, while acquiring a Raketa 3031 is a project which involves a lot of luck. As such, it’s practically impossible to define a “market price.” It simply depends on how badly the seller needs money and whether he can find a collector who truly wants it. For reference, the most recent known sales in Russia were reportedly in the 8,000–10,000 EUR range, and that’s also roughly the amount I paid for mine (including repairs) within the EU.
Finally, I should mention that all the general information in this article was gathered exclusively from online sources, primarily in Russian. I relied on my basic Russian skills and machine translation. If you happen to know that any of the details are incorrect and have more accurate information, I would greatly appreciate your comments and corrections below the article.
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