R & J Beck Trench Periscope
Among the many small but life-saving inventions of the First World War, the officer’s trench periscope made by R. & J. Beck Ltd of London deserves far more attention than it usually receives. It was not a dramatic weapon, it did not roar like artillery or change the skyline like a tank, but to the men crouched in the wet chalk, clay and sandbagged trenches of the Western Front, it could mean the difference between intelligence and ignorance, or even life and death. The R. & J. Beck Mk IX trench periscope was a compact optical instrument, usually around 58 to 60 centimetres long, made with a metal body, glass optics and a detachable wooden handle. Surviving museum examples show the Mk IX dated 1918, with serial numbers stamped into the body, and the Science Museum records one 1918 Mark IX example by R. & J. Beck with serial number 22289 and a detachable oak handle.
The reason such a simple-looking object mattered so much lies in the nature of trench warfare itself. By 1915 the Western Front had become a landscape where looking over the parapet could be fatal. Enemy snipers watched for the smallest movement. Machine-gun posts covered gaps in the wire. Artillery observers waited for signs of working parties, reliefs, patrols or new trench construction. An officer still had to see what was happening beyond his own trench, but every direct look over the top exposed his head and shoulders. The trench periscope solved that problem by allowing him to observe from below cover. The upper end of the instrument could be raised just above the parapet while the officer’s face remained safely below the sandbags.
The Mk IX worked by the ordinary but clever principle of reflected light. Inside the tube were angled optical elements, usually described in simple terms as mirrors or prisms, set so that light entering the top of the instrument was turned down through the body and then out through the lower eyepiece. The observer looked into the eyepiece while the upper aperture looked out across No Man’s Land. In effect, the periscope moved the officer’s eye upwards without moving his head. Some examples had a focusing eyepiece or focusing ring, allowing the view to be sharpened. The field of view was never the same as standing in the open with binoculars, but the trade-off was obvious: a narrower view from safety was better than a perfect view followed by a sniper’s bullet.
The R. & J. Beck Mk IX was especially useful for officers, NCOs, observers and trench sentries because observation was one of the central duties of trench command. Officers needed to study enemy wire, spot changes in parapets, watch suspected machine-gun positions, direct working parties, check the effect of artillery fire and plan patrols or raids. A battalion might be ordered to attack a trench system that looked quiet from maps, but the periscope could reveal fresh loopholes, new wire, a repaired communication trench or movement around an enemy sap. For artillery observation it could also help identify where shells were falling, although more powerful optical instruments were often used from prepared observation posts.
The two-part arrangement that screwed into the headstock or body was not accidental. The Mk IX had to be practical in the trench, where equipment was dragged through mud, banged against firesteps and carried through narrow communication trenches. A fixed full-length instrument would have been more awkward to pack and easier to damage. By making the handle detachable and by using screw fittings, the periscope could be carried more easily, assembled quickly and repaired or cleaned more simply. The wooden handle gave the officer a firm grip and kept his hand away from the cold metal body, but it could be unscrewed when packed away. The screwed construction also allowed the optical head and handle section to be joined securely without making the whole instrument too bulky. Auction and museum descriptions repeatedly note original wooden or oak detachable handles, confirming that this was a normal feature of the Beck trench periscope rather than a later alteration.
Its construction also reflected the realities of British wartime production. Brass or metal tubing gave strength, while the painted finish reduced shine. A bright exposed instrument could catch the light and betray a position, so many examples were painted in khaki, green or field colours. Surviving examples often show chipped paint, worn handles and cloudy or spotted optics, which is exactly what one would expect from an item used in damp, rough field conditions. The Imperial War Museums list an R. & J. Beck Mk IX periscope dated 1918 with wood, metal and glass construction, and give its length as 587 mm, which matches the size usually seen in surviving examples.
R. & J. Beck was a natural company to produce such an object. It was not a general engineering firm suddenly trying its hand at optics, but a respected British optical manufacturer. The Science Museum identifies R. & J. Beck as a London-based British optical instrument maker producing microscopes, telescopes, optometer lenses, camera lenses, cameras and other optical equipment. The firm’s roots went back to the mid-19th century, beginning with Richard Beck, Joseph Beck and James Smith, and later developing through the names Smith & Beck, Smith, Beck & Beck, Beck & Beck and then R. & J. Beck. By the late 19th and early 20th century it was well established in precision optical work, the very field needed for military periscopes, lenses and sighting instruments.
Before the war, Beck was known particularly for microscopes and scientific instruments, but its skills translated naturally into wartime needs. A trench periscope did not require the complexity of a fine laboratory microscope, but it did require accurate alignment, decent glass, robust construction and the ability to produce instruments in useful numbers. In trench conditions, poor alignment would make the image frustrating or useless. Bad sealing and poor finishing would let in dirt and moisture. Weak fittings would fail in the field. Beck’s pre-war reputation in optics helped make it suitable for military contracts at a time when Britain needed every capable optical firm it could find.
The exact number of Mk IX trench periscopes produced by R. & J. Beck does not appear to survive in an easily confirmed public production total. However, surviving serial numbers strongly suggest large-scale production. Known examples include serial numbers in the 11,000s and 12,000s from 1917, and examples above 30,000 from 1918. One C&T Auctions example is stamped “PERISCOPE Mk IX 1918 R&J BECK Ltd No 30393,” while another recorded 1918 example carries number 30920. This does not prove that every number in the sequence was a completed periscope, but it does show that production almost certainly ran into the tens of thousands. That in itself says a great deal about how important these instruments had become by the final year of the war.
The Mk IX was part of a wider family of trench periscopes. Some were simple improvised wooden devices with two mirrors, sometimes made in workshops or by soldiers themselves. Others were more refined commercial or military instruments, including folding periscopes, rifle periscopes and larger observation devices. The Beck Mk IX sits in the middle: compact enough to be hand-held, better made than a rough trench-made mirror box, but still simple enough to be used quickly by an officer in a front-line trench. It was not meant to be a luxury item; it was meant to be a practical answer to a deadly problem.
One interesting feature of these officer’s periscopes is that they also represent the changing nature of courage in the First World War. In earlier wars, an officer might be expected to stand visibly and lead by example. In the trenches, unnecessary exposure was not courage but waste. The officer who used a periscope was not hiding from duty; he was preserving himself so that he could command, observe and report. The periscope was part of the adaptation of armies to industrial warfare, where survival often depended on using cover, concealment and technology intelligently.
For snipers and counter-snipers, periscopes were also important. A sniper’s greatest advantage was forcing the enemy to expose himself. The periscope reduced that advantage. It allowed a trench to be watched without presenting a human target. Of course, a periscope itself could still be spotted and hit. A bullet striking the upper part might shatter glass or damage the instrument, and soldiers sometimes used dummy heads or other tricks to draw sniper fire. Even so, losing a periscope was far preferable to losing an officer or observer.
The collector appeal of the R. & J. Beck Mk IX today comes from several things: the clear maker’s mark, the date, the model designation, the serial number, the First World War trench association and the fact that many still display well. A good example usually has its original wooden handle, visible markings, original paint if possible and reasonably clear optics. A missing handle, badly clouded glass, dents, repainting or unclear markings will reduce value. A strong example with its original finish and working optics is far more desirable than a rough body with damaged glass.
Current collector values vary widely because condition matters so much. Recent auction results show some examples selling around £80 to £120, with one 2024 auction recording £100 hammer for a 1918 R. & J. Beck Mk IX and a 2026 Special Auction Services example selling for £120. Other examples have sold lower, especially when grouped with other items or needing cleaning, while dealer prices can be higher; one militaria dealer listed a 1917 R. & J. Beck Mk IX at £225, though it was marked out of stock. A sensible present-day guide would be roughly £80 to £150 for an average complete example, perhaps £180 to £250 for a very clean one with strong markings, original handle and good optics, and less for damaged, incomplete or heavily restored pieces.
