2011, a military staging area outside Nairobi, Kenya. A convoy of squat angular vehicles idles in red dust. Engines clattering like delivery truck stuck in traffic. Because that is exactly what they are. Underneath the armored steel, underneath the V-shaped hull, underneath the gun mount bolted to the roof, the heart of each vehicle is a commercial tatter truck.
The same gearbox, the same axles, the same engine block found in civilian freight haulers rumbling through Lagos and Mumbai. It looks like a budget job. It looks like a shortcut. The armor is flat and utilitarian. The proportions blunt. The finish closer to a construction site than a military parade ground.
Officers from wealthier nations glance at it and see a compromise. A truckwearing body armor. A vehicle built to a price tag, not a specification. It would go on to survive more roadside bombs, more landmine strikes, and more ambushes across subsahara and Africa than almost any other armored vehicle of its generation.
It would serve with peacekeepers in Somalia, Mali, Bkinaaso, Nia, Seneagal, and Guinea. It would be purchased, donated, and deployed across the deadliest conflict zones on the continent. And according to its manufacturer and the veterans who rode inside it, it would never lose a single crew member to a mine blast. Its designation was the Pummer M2615, and it was the cheapest mine protected vehicle that ever kept an army alive.
To understand why the pummer existed, you need to understand the problem Africa faced in the 2000s. Across the Sahel, across the Horn, across central Africa, insurgencies were metastasizing. Al-Shabaab controlled vast stretches of southern Somalia. Jihadist groups carved out territory across Mali and Nijer. Bucko Haram expanded from northeastern Nigeria into Cameroon and Chad.
And the weapon of choice in every one of these conflicts was the same. the improvised explosive device buried in a road, packed inside a vehicle, detonated by a pressure plate or a mobile phone. The army sent to fight these insurgences, mostly African Union and United Nations peacekeeping contingents, were driving into mine belts in unprotected trucks.
Land cruisers, Bedford lorries, vehicles designed for cargo, not survival. The casualties were devastating and the western solution, the American MAP, was no solution at all for most African militaries. A NISAR Max Pro cost between $500,000 and $1 million per unit. It weighed over 16 tons. It demanded specialized recovery vehicles, complex logistics chains, and maintenance infrastructure that simply did not exist in the field.
South Africa had a different answer. South Africa had always had a different answer. The country had effectively invented the mindprotected vehicle during the border war of the 1970s and 80s. Engineers at the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research, the CSIR, developed the principle of blast deflection through V-shaped hull geometry.
The Buffalo arrived in 1978, the first truly effective landmine protected personnel carrier to enter service anywhere in the world. Over 2400 were built. The Casper followed, certified to survive a triple anti-tank mine blast, the equivalent of 21 kg of TNT under a single wheel. Then came the Mamba and then the RG31 Nala, which became the backbone of the American MAP program and a mainstay of United Nations missions worldwide.
But by the late 2000s, the Buffalo and Casper fleets were aging. Spare parts were scarce, and the RG31, while battleproven, had become expensive. African armies needed something new, something affordable, and something they could actually maintain. OTT Technologies, a small firm based at Muiplat outside Pritoria, had been refurbishing surplus military vehicles since 1980.
They knew what African armies needed because they had been repairing what African armies broke. In 2009, OTT engineers began work on a new mine protected vehicle built around a radical idea. Instead of designing a bespoke military drivetrain, they would take the complete powertrain of a commercial TA 715 TC 4×4 truck, the engine, gearbox, transfer case, and axles, and build a blast resistant armored hull around it.
The vehicle itself was a masterpiece of pragmatic engineering. The hull was an all-welded steel monoke with a pronounced V-shape designed to deflect blast energy outward and downward. Ballistic protection reached B6 plus, equivalent to standard level 1, defeating 7.62 mm and 5.56 mm NATO ball ammunition from any angle.
Mine protection was rated at 8 kg of TNT under the hull and 10 kg under any wheel, enough to survive a standard anti-tank mine detonation. The engine was a Cumin 6 BTA 5.9 L diesel, producing 145 horsepower through a TA 6-speed manual gearbox. This meant a maximum road speed of around 80 km/h and a range of 800 km on a 200 L fuel tank.
Total weight was 8 tons, light enough for African road bridges and simple enough for any Tarta truck dealership on the continent to service. Inside the crew compartment seated 10, a driver and commander up front, eight troops in the rear on blast attenuating seats facing inward.
11 firing ports provided 360 degree engagement capability, and a roof mounted cup accepted anything from a light machine gun to a 12.7 mm heavy weapon. The entire vehicle cost approximately $300,000. A Casper refurbishment cost more. An RG-31 cost three times as much. An American Max Pro cost four times as much. The Puma M2615 was not the best protected mine vehicle in Africa.
It was the best protected mine vehicle Africa could actually afford. Now, before we get into where this vehicle actually fought, if you are enjoying this deep dive into African military engineering, hit subscribe. It takes a second, costs nothing, and helps the channel grow. Kenya was the first major customer and the proving ground that made the Pummer’s reputation.
In 2011, the Kenyan Defense Forces awarded OTT Technologies a $20 million contract for 67 Puma M2615 armored personnel carriers. Within months, those vehicles were rolling south across the Somali border as part of Operation Linda Nichi, Kenya’s military incursion against Al-Shabaab. The roads of southern Somalia were some of the most heavily mined territory on Earth.
Al-Shabaab had seeded the main supply routes with pressure plate IEDs, anti-tank mines, and vehicle-born explosives designed to destroy conventional military transport. Kenyan troops in unarmored trucks had already suffered catastrophic losses. In one documented incident near Geril in March 2022, an IED strike on a soft-skinned convoy killed nine Kenyan soldiers outright.
The vehicles were obliterated. The Pumas told a different story. According to Iban Barlow, the founder of executive outcomes and a figure with decades of experience in African counterinsurgency, the Puma fleet in Somalia absorbed numerous landmine EFP and IED strikes without a single crew fatality. OTT’s marketing manager, Hans Creek, confirmed to defense media that the vehicle had survived multiple improvised explosive attacks during Kenyan operations in Somalia.
OTT deployed a mobile workshop to Nairobi specifically to repair blast damaged Pumas and return them to service. The Kenyan fleet eventually grew to approximately 150 vehicles. In September 2012, Kenyan forces operating under the African Union mission in Somalia, AMISM, captured the strategic port city of Kismayo. Puma M2615s were at the front of the advance, carrying troops through territory saturated with explosive threats.
The vehicle that critics called a truck with armor was keeping soldiers alive in conditions that destroyed purpose built military vehicles costing three times as much. The Puma’s reach extended far beyond East Africa. In 2014, South Africa exported 326 armored vehicles worth nearly 3 billion rand and OTT’s Pummer formed a substantial share of that total. Seneagal received 30 vehicles.
Guinea acquired 32. Bikina Faso took 31. Nija ordered 21. Malawi purchased 13 to 18. Many of these sales were not direct government to government transactions. They flowed through the United States Department of State’s African peacekeeping rapid response partnership with defense contractors Dincorp International and Pacific Architects and Engineers PAE managing procurement and delivery.
A single DINORP contract from the State Department was worth $173 million, funding the assembly and deployment of over 100 armored personnel carriers for African Union peacekeepers in Mali. In Mali, under the United Nations peacekeeping mission, Minusma, the deadliest UN operation in the world, West African troop contributing nations drove Pumas through the same kind of IED saturated terrain that had tested the vehicle in Somalia.
Ginian and Seneagalles contingents used both the original M26 and the larger M36 variant on patrol routes where explosive devices claimed UN casualties on a near weekly basis. In August 2022, the United States formally donated 24 Puma M 2615s to the African Union Transition Mission in Somalia, ATMIS.
Major General Jaime Shley, commanding general of Combined Joint Task Force Horn of Africa, personally handed the vehicles over in Mogadishu. The vehicles went to the Djiboutian contingent. Separately, six of the larger Puma M36 Mark 6 vehicles were delivered to Somalia’s elite American trained Danab Brigade in 2021. A South African vehicle built on an Indian truck chassis purchased with American money and driven by Djiboutian soldiers into Somali combat zones.
That is the Puma’s true story, not a national weapons program, a supply chain that kept peacekeepers alive. On paper, the Puma M2615 loses almost every comparison against its rivals. The RG31 Nala offers higher ballistic and mine protection and has been combat proven with Canadian, American, and United Nations forces across Iraq and Afghanistan.
The American Max Pro can survive blast charges exceeding 78 kg, nearly 10 times the Pummer’s rated threshold. The Australian Bushmaster offers superior crew comfort, modular armor, and independent suspension. But every one of those vehicles costs three to 10 times more to buy. Everyone demands heavier logistics.
Everyone requires specialized maintenance facilities that do not exist in rural Somalia, northern Mali, or the border regions of Bkina Faso. And critically, not one of those vehicles can be serviced at a commercial Tata Truck dealer using off-the-shelf parts. The Puma was never designed to win a specification sheet competition. It was designed to exist where nothing else could.
The philosophy was survival at a price point, protection that was good enough, delivered in volumes that were large enough, sustained by logistics that were simple enough. That philosophy has limits. By 2021, Kenya’s Ministry of Defense acknowledged that a significant number of its Pummer and Mamba fleet had been rendered inoperable due to what officials described as a changing threat environment.
Al-Shabaab had evolved from buried mines to complex ambushes using vehicle-born explosives and explosively formed penetrators that exceeded the M26’s protection envelope. Kenya awarded Turkish manufacturer Catmasyler a contract for 118 Hizer Maps, a heavier, more capable vehicle designed to meet the next generation of threats. The Puma’s era is not over, but the threat it was built to defeat has changed.
2011, a staging area outside Nairobi, a convoy of angular vehicles, idles in red dust, built on commercial truck frames, armored to a budget, and dismissed by every military that could afford something better. The Puma M2615 was not elegant. It was not advanced. It carried no sophisticated electronics, no active protection systems, no independent suspension.
Its engine was a freight hauler’s diesel. Its gearbox was designed for delivery routes, not battlefields. And yet it worked in the mine belts of southern Somalia on the edrated highways of northern Mali along the insurgent corridors of Bkinaaso and Niger in every theater where African peacekeepers needed protection and western price tags made protection impossible. The Puma was there.
South Africa did not invent the mine protected vehicle to sell to wealthy armies. South Africa invented it to survive. And when the rest of the continent needed that same survival, OTT Technologies did something no Western manufacturer would consider. They built it on a commercial truck chassis, priced it at $300,000, and let any Tata dealer on the continent keep it running. That is not compromise.
That is the difference between engineering for brochures and engineering for Africa.
QQ4 Bob Dylan and Keith Richards have been close friends for nearly 40 years. The friendship began on a live television program in November of 1986 in the 11 seconds after Bob Dylan called Keith Richards music derivative on camera. Keith Richard’s response to that assessment, one sentence said without anger, without performance, with the specific directness of a man who has nothing to prove and knows it made Bob Dylan laugh.
Then made Bob Dylan go quiet. then made Bob Dylan say two words that people who know Bob Dylan say he almost never said to anyone. This is the story of those 11 seconds and the 40 years that followed them. The program was a live music interview special broadcast on an American network on the evening of November 3rd, 1986. The format was simple.
Two musicians, a host, an hour of conversation about music and the state of it. The producers had assembled the pairing of Bob Dylan and Keith Richards with the specific calculation of television producers who understand that two people with equally strong and potentially incompatible views about what music is and what it should do will produce better television than two people who agree about everything.
The calculation was correct, though not in the way the producers had anticipated. Bob Dylan was 45 years old in November of 1986. Bob Dylan had released Empire Burlesque the previous year and had been on the road for most of the intervening period as part of the True Confessions tour with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
Bob Dylan was in November of 1986 in one of the most prolific and restless phases of a career that had consisted almost entirely of prolific and restless phases. A career that had moved through folk, rock, country, gospel, and back again, that had been declared finished at least six times by the music press, and at each time continued with the serene indifference of a river to the opinions of people standing on its banks.
Bob Dylan had been redefining what music could be. Since 1962, Bob Dylan had invented and reinvented himself so many times that reinvention had become his defining characteristic, not in the superficial sense of a performer changing costumes, but in the deeper sense of a musician who had never allowed his work to settle into a form that could be anticipated or categorized from the outside.
Bob Dylan understood influence and originality and the relationship between them better than almost anyone alive in 1986. Bob Dylan had spent 24 years thinking carefully and specifically about where music came from and where music was going and what it meant that those two things were always in constant conversation with each other.
Keith Richards was 42 years old in November of 1986. Keith Richards had been playing guitar professionally since 1962. Keith Richards had built a career on a foundation of American blues and rhythm and blues. A foundation that Keith Richards had studied with the systematic devotion of someone who understood that the tradition he was building on was not incidental to the music he was making, but essential to it.
that you could not understand what Keith Richards did without understanding where Keith Richards had come from and what Keith Richards had been listening to since he was a teenager in Dartford with American Import Records and a secondhand guitar and no teacher except the recordings themselves. Keith Richards had never pretended otherwise. Keith Richards had in fact spent considerable energy across his career making the lineage explicit, naming the artists, citing the recordings, insisting on the acknowledgement of influence that the mainstream music
industry had a long history of suppressing or ignoring or crediting to the wrong people. If anything, Keith Richards was more transparent about his sources than most musicians of his generation. Keith Richards had always said openly that the Rolling Stones came directly from the blues, that Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson and the specific tradition of the Mississippi Delta were not background influences, but foundational ones.
The music Keith Richards made was in direct and sustained conversation with that tradition, something Keith Richards considered not a limitation, but a responsibility and a form of respect. The interview had been running for 8 minutes when the host asked Bob Dylan about the current state of rock and roll.
Bob Dylan answered with the density and the indirection that characterized Bob Dylan’s responses to direct questions, turning the question over, approaching it from an unexpected angle, finding his way to what he actually thought through a series of observations that moved like a river rather than a road. Bob Dylan was not a straightforward interview subject.
Bob Dylan had been asked about rock and roll in hundreds of interviews across 24 years and had developed the habit of treating the question as an invitation to think out loud rather than a request for a prepared position. The producer Gerald Sherman said afterward that in the first 8 minutes of the interview, he had been slightly anxious, not because anything was going wrong, but because nothing was going anywhere in particular yet.
The interview had the feeling of two conversations happening simultaneously. Bob Dylan’s internal one and the external one visible to the cameras. And Gerald Sherman was not certain in those first eight minutes that the two conversations would converge into something. Bob Dylan talked about influence. Bob Dylan talked about originality.
Bob Dylan talked about the difference between music that absorbed a tradition and transformed it and music that absorbed a tradition and reproduced it. And then Bob Dylan made his assessment. And then Bob Dylan said with the precision of a man making a musical assessment rather than a personal judgment that the Rolling Stones work, and Bob Dylan was specific, naming Keith Richards as the guitarist whose approach he was discussing was derivative in a way that Bob Dylan found limiting.
Bob Dylan said it without hostility. Bob Dylan said it as a technical observation about the relationship between source material and the work that came from it. Bob Dylan said that Keith Richards played the blues the way the blues had already been played, rather than using the blues as a starting point for something that had not yet been played.
Keith Richards had been listening to this with the specific attention Keith Richards gave to things being said about music by people who knew music. Keith Richards did not interrupt. Keith Richards did not shift in his chair or display any of the visible signals of a person preparing a defensive response. Keith Richards listened to Bob Dylan’s complete observation all the way to its conclusion without interrupting and without displaying any visible signal of preparing a response.
Then Keith Richards said one sentence. The sentence was not a rebuttal. The sentence did not defend Keith Richards music or argue for its originality or challenge Bob Dylan’s characterization of what the blues meant in the context of rock and roll. The sentence was something else entirely, something that required a specific kind of confidence to say.
The confidence of a person who has spent long enough thinking about the same things as the person they are talking to that they can locate the exact point where their thinking diverges and say something useful about that point rather than simply defending their own position. The sentence acknowledged everything Bob Dylan had said, the assessment, the distinction Bob Dylan was drawing, the specific musical concern underlying the observation, and then turned it 90°.
Keith Richards took Bob Dylan’s own framework, the one Bob Dylan had used to analyze Keith Richards relationship to the blues tradition, and applied it back to Bob Dylan’s work with the same precision Bob Dylan had used to apply it to Keith Richards. Spare aimed. The sentence asked Bob Dylan something about Bob Dylan’s own music, about the relationship between Bob Dylan’s sources and Bob Dylan’s output that Bob Dylan had not been asked on television before.
The sentence did not attack. The sentence illuminated. Bob Dylan laughed. The laugh was not the polite laugh of someone responding to a joke. The laugh was the involuntary laugh of someone who has been genuinely surprised. The specific kind of surprise that a person of exceptional intelligence experiences when someone else’s intelligence exceeds their expectations.
Bob Dylan laughed for 4 seconds. Then Bob Dylan stopped laughing. Then Bob Dylan was quiet for 3 seconds in the way that Bob Dylan was quiet when Bob Dylan was thinking rather than performing thought. Then Bob Dylan said, “You’re right.” The producer in the booth, a man named Gerald Sherman, who had been working in television for 14 years, said afterward that in 14 years of live television production, he had never heard Bob Dylan say those two words in a public forum.
Gerald Sherman said he had worked with Bob Dylan on two previous occasions and had observed Bob Dylan in numerous other contexts and that you’re right was not a phrase that Bob Dylan deployed easily or often because Bob Dylan had spent 24 years being right about music in ways that other people eventually caught up with. And the experience of being right ahead of everyone else does not generally produce a man who says you’re right readily when someone else makes a point.
The host of the program, a journalist named Patricia Wells, who had been interviewing musicians for 12 years, said afterward that the 11 seconds between Bob Dylan’s assessment and Bob Dylan saying, “You’re right,” were the most extraordinary 11 seconds of television she had been present for. Patricia Wells said that what she witnessed in those 11 seconds was not a debate or a confrontation or a celebrity exchange of competing opinions.
Patricia Wells said what she witnessed was one musician recognizing another musician as an equal, which was in the specific context of Bob Dylan in 1986, not something that happened in public very often. The interview continued for another 42 minutes after those 11 seconds. The conversation between Bob Dylan and Keith Richards in the remaining 42 minutes was described by everyone who watched it as fundamentally different from the first 8 minutes.
The host, Patricia Wells, who had been conducting music interviews for 12 years and understood the difference between the performance of conversation and actual conversation, said that at approximately the 9-minute mark, something shifted in the studio. That the formal interview, architecture dissolved, and what replaced it was something less structured and more genuine.
Bob Dylan and Keith Richards talked about influence and originality and the blues and what it meant to build on a tradition without being consumed by it. They talked about specific recordings and specific musicians with the specificity of two people who had spent their entire adult lives thinking about these things and rarely found another person who had thought about them with equivalent care.
They talked about where music came from and where music was going and whether those two questions were actually one question or two. Patricia Wells said afterward that she had asked approximately four questions in the remaining 42 minutes because Bob Dylan and Keith Richards did not require questions. They required only a room and a camera and the shared understanding that what they were saying together was worth recording carefully.
She said it was the best interview she had ever conducted and that she had conducted the smallest part of it. After the program, Bob Dylan and Keith Richards were in the corridor outside the studio when the host Patricia Wells passed them. Patricia Wells said she did not stop because she did not want to interrupt.
She observed them for approximately 30 seconds from a distance. She said they were talking with the ease of people who had known each other for years rather than people who had met for the first time 2 hours earlier. She said that something had shifted between them during the broadcast that the broadcast had made permanent rather than temporary.
She continued down the corridor and did not look back. She said in her account of that evening that she had decided in that moment not to interrupt the conversation because some conversations are more valuable than any question a journalist might ask and that the conversation she had observed for 30 seconds in the corridor outside the studio was one of them.
She had been a music journalist for 12 years. She recognized the difference. Bob Dylan and Keith Richards have maintained their friendship across four decades. They have appeared together at various events, most significantly at the concert for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1995, where people who were present described them as inseparable for most of the evening, occupying the same corner of the backstage area and talking with the concentrated attention of people who only have a limited amount of time together and intend to use it
well. Bob Dylan has spoken about Keith Richards in interviews with the specific thoughtful care that Bob Dylan reserves for musicians whose work Bob Dylan considers genuinely important rather than merely culturally prominent. Keith Richards has spoken about Bob Dylan in similar terms with the specific respect of someone who recognizes in another person a commitment to music that goes deeper than career.
Neither Bob Dylan nor Keith Richards has made a public statement specifically about how the friendship began or about the November 1986 interview. Bob Dylan has not mentioned the 11 seconds. Keith Richards has not mentioned the sentence. The interview exists in the archive. The 11 seconds are there. The laugh is there. The two words are there.
What is also there for anyone who watches the interview from its beginning and pays attention to the shift that happens at the 9-minute mark is the specific moment when two people who thought they were appearing on a television program discovered they were actually talking to each other. What Keith Richards said in that one sentence has never been officially reported.
The people who were in the studio that evening, Gerald Sherman, Patricia Wells, the floor crew, the two camera operators, the makeup artist who was watching from the side of the set, have described the sentence in consistent terms. They have described its effect. They have described Bob Dylan’s laugh and Bob Dylan’s silence and Bob Dylan’s two words.
They have not repeated the sentence itself in the specific understanding that the sentence was said between two musicians on a television program and that its power resided in the specific context of that exchange and would not survive removal from it intact. What can be said is this. Keith Richards said something to Bob Dylan about Bob Dylan’s music that used Bob Dylan’s own observation about Keith Richards as its starting point and arrived somewhere that Bob Dylan had not anticipated.
Keith Richards turned Bob Dylan’s assessment 90° and showed Bob Dylan something about the music they had both spent their lives making that Bob Dylan recognized immediately as true. And Bob Dylan said, “You’re right.” Two words said by Bob Dylan in public on live television in 1986 to Keith Richards in response to a single sentence Keith Richards had said about music.
Two words that Gerald Sherman, who had worked with Bob Dylan on two previous occasions, said he had never heard Bob Dylan say in a public forum. Two words that Patricia Wells, who had been interviewing musicians for 12 years, said were the most significant two words she had heard in those 12 years. Not because of their content, but because of who said them and what it cost to say them and what it meant that Keith Richards had produced them in 11 seconds from a conversation that began with Bob Dylan calling Keith Richards’s music derivative. And Keith Richards and
Bob Dylan have been close friends for nearly 40 years. The sentence did its work in 11 seconds on the evening of November 3rd, 1986. The work has been ongoing ever since. If this story moved you, subscribe and leave a comment below. Have you ever said something to someone that turned a potential disagreement into an unexpected and lasting connection? Tell us about it in the comments below.
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