April 8th, 2008. Helmand province, southern Afghanistan. A column of British vehicles rolled out of Camp Bastion to begin Operation Herrick eight. Soldiers from 16 Air Assault Brigade and three Commando Brigade Royal Marines watched the new arrivals with raised eyebrows. The vehicles had no roof, no doors, no armored cab, just a steel roll cage, an exposed crew, and a heavy weapon mounted on a ring at the front.
Every soldier present knew Helmand was the most heavily mined province on Earth. The Russians had buried tens of thousands of mines in this ground in the 1980s. The Taliban had improved the technique since, and the British Army had just sent open-topped buggies into the worst improvised explosive device threat the British Army had ever faced.
Three months later, those same buggies would be tearing through wadis at 50 miles an hour, climbing slopes that stopped armored trucks, and saving the lives of men who had previously been driving the most hated vehicle in the British arsenal. The Supercat Jackal looked wrong. It was not. Before the Jackal, there was the Snatch.
Officially, the Truck Utility Medium with Vehicle Protection Kit, built by NP Aerospace on a Land Rover Defender chassis. It had been designed in 1992 for one task, patrolling Northern Ireland streets where the threat was bricks, petrol bombs, and rifle fire. Its composite armor stopped small arms. Against an improvised explosive device, the official Ministry of Defense assessment, later quoted in the Supreme Court judgment Smith versus the Ministry of Defense, conceded the vehicle offered no significant protection. British
soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan called it the mobile coffin. Between 2003 and 2014, at least 37 British personnel died inside Snatch Land Rovers. Sue Smith, the mother of Private Phillip Hewitt, who was killed alongside Second Lieutenant Richard Shearer and Private Leon Spicer in Al Amara on July 16, 2005, later revealed her son had told her he was driving a Warrior to stop her worrying.
According to the law firm Hodge Jones and Allen, which represented the families, some soldiers deliberately lost their driving licenses so they would not have to drive the vehicle. On June 17th, 2008, Corporal Sarah Bryant became the first British servicewoman killed in Afghanistan when her Snatch was destroyed by an improvised explosive device east of Lashkar Gah.
She died alongside three Special Air Service reservists. In 2017, Defense Secretary Sir Michael Fallon issued a written apology to the families expressing his deepest sympathies and apologizing for the delay resulting from the decisions taken at the time in bringing into service alternative protected vehicles which could have saved lives.
By the time that apology was written, the alternative had already been in service for nearly a decade. Mobile reconnaissance was a British specialty long before the Snatch became a scandal. In 1967, the Special Air Service began replacing its World War II Willys Jeeps with a Land Rover Series IIA 109-in wheelbase. Marshall of Cambridge converted 72 vehicles in February 1968 under contract to the Ministry of Defense.
The doors came off. The roof came off. The windscreen came off. Four fuel tanks holding 100 gallons went on. Twin general purpose machine guns mounted front and rear. Some carried a Browning .50 caliber. Some carried the Carl Gustav 84-mm recoilless rifle. The vehicles were painted desert pink, a color selected after operational testing in Aden found it disappeared into dawn and dusk light better than green.
Soldiers called them pink panthers. They served the regiment from Oman to Borneo to the inner German border for nearly two decades. By the 1990s, the pink panthers had been replaced by the Land Rover 110 Desert Patrol Vehicle nicknamed the Pinky despite a beige Gulf War paint scheme. A and D squadrons of 22 SAS took these vehicles into western Iraq in January 1991 to hunt Scud missile launchers.
The famous Bravo Two Zero patrol declined vehicles in favor of foot infiltration. Three of the eight men were killed, four were captured, one escaped. The sister patrol, Bravo Three Zero, took the Pinkies and completed its mission without loss. The lesson was burned into SAS doctrine. Vehicles meant survival. By 2001, the regiment needed something faster and longer legged than the 110.
The Ministry of Defence issued a contract called Project Minacity. The winning bid came from a small company at Dunkeswell Aerodrome in Devon called Supacat. Founded in 1981 by Nick Jones and David Clayton, their design was the High Mobility Transporter 400. 65 vehicles for special forces, seven more in 2006. Then Helmand exposed the limits of every other patrol vehicle in the British inventory.
In July 2007, the MWMIK Urgent Operational Requirement was issued. Supacat One. Production was split between Dunkeswell and Babcock International’s facility at Devonport, Plymouth. The vehicle was renamed the Jackal. The Jackal One ran a Cummins ISB 5.9 L diesel producing 185 horsepower through an Allison five-speed automatic transmission. Top road speed was 80 mph.
Range was about 500 miles on internal fuel. Combat weight was around 6,650 kg. The signature feature was Supacat’s independent variable height air suspension, which allowed the vehicle to drop to 180 mm ground clearance for Chinook stowage and rise to 380 mm for cross-country work. Shock absorbers came from Fox Racing Shox.
Armament centered on a ring-mounted heavy machine gun, either the .50 caliber M2 or the 40-mm Heckler & Koch grenade machine gun with a commander’s general-purpose machine gun forward. Crew was three. The Jackal Two, introduced in 2009, raised the gun ring forward for a clear 360° arc. Fitted a 6.7 L engine, expanded the crew to four, and added Jankel supplied modular armor plates.
The Jackal 2A added a steel cab with integrated mine blast protection. The open top was not a compromise, it was the design intent. British Army doctrine, repeated in Forces News and Ministry of Defense briefings, holds that an explosion underneath a sealed armored vehicle concentrates overpressure inside the cabin.
An open-topped vehicle vents that pressure upward. The crew also retains 360° visibility, can sweep weapons across a full circle, and can exit instantly. Most critically, the air suspension and high ground clearance allow the crew to leave roads entirely. The bomb you avoid by going cross country is better than the bomb you survive.
The same logic that put long-range Desert Group Jeeps behind Rommel’s lines in 1942 had migrated through the decades into hydropneumatic suspension and Allison automatics. Quick moment here. If you’re enjoying this deep dive into British engineering, hit subscribe. It takes a second and it helps the channel grow. Now, back to the Jackal in combat.
The Jackal first deployed on Operation Herrick 8 in April 2008. Three Commando Brigade’s Brigade Patrol Troop and the Pathfinder Platoon were the earliest operators. They were quickly joined by the Household Cavalry Regiment, the 1st The Queen’s Dragoon Guards, the Light Dragoons, the 9th and 12th Royal Lancers, and 3 Para.
On October 15th, 2008, Trooper James Munday of the Household Cavalry became the first soldier killed inside a Jackal, struck north of Forward Operating Base Delhi. Contemporary newspaper accounts in August 2009 reported that 13 British soldiers had been lost in Jackals, prompting The Times to question whether the open-top concept was sound.
The Ministry of Defense’s response was the Jackal 2A and an emphasis on the data the press was missing. Brigade reconnaissance forces equipped with the new vehicle were finding routes the Taliban could not interdict. Sergeant Adrian Foster of the Royal Marines told United Press International in September 2009 that the vehicle helped them go places the enemy was not expecting them to be.
Captain Orlando Roger described the suspension to Defense Update. Each suspension arm was independent, so when the vehicle hit a bump cross-country, the shock was felt over only one wheel while the ride continued stable. By 2011, the Jackal 2A was operating from Sangin to Gamsir alongside Mastiff 6×6 mine resistant ambush protected trucks which could not match its cross-country pace.
The Mastiff stayed on roads and survived. The Jackal left the roads and survived differently. Light Dragoons crews led the lead battle group of Operation Panther’s Claw alongside 2 Mercian in June and July 2009. First Queen’s Dragoon Guards C Squadron operated Jackals on Herrick 20 in 2014, the British Army’s last major combat tour in Helmand.
The most decorated single Jackal action came at Camp Bastion on September 14th, 2012. Insurgents in stolen American uniforms broke through the perimeter wire. Royal Air Force Regiment quick reaction force commander Sergeant Roy Geddes mounted his Jackal under heavy rocket-propelled grenade fire. The vehicle was hit.
He continued to direct the counterattack. His military cross citation, published in the operational honors list of April 2013, recorded his decision to get his men into the vehicles with every weapon system available. Two Royal Marines were killed in the raid. Six American Harrier jets were destroyed. The Jackal had earned its place in the official honors list.
A parallel story unfolded in Australia. In November 2005, Warrant Officer Class 2 David Narey of the Australian Special Air Service Regiment was killed in pre-deployment training. Narey had been instrumental in the regiment’s vehicle mobility program. In 2008, Australia ordered 31 Supercat Extender Mark 1 vehicles designated the Special Operations Vehicle Special Reconnaissance, and named in his honor.
Soldiers called them Naries. In 2014, a follow-on order of 89 Extenda Mk2 vehicles for the 2nd Commando Regiment came in at 105 million Australian dollars under Project Redfin. They were assembled by Baker and Provan in Western Sydney. Same chassis, same lineage, a different uniform. Ukraine is where the lineage now hunts a different enemy.
The United Kingdom has been deliberately opaque about exactly what was donated and to whom, almost certainly to protect Ukrainian Special Operations Forces. What is on the public record is this. In April 2022, The Times reported British plans to send Mastiffs and Jackals to Kyiv. Babcock International’s own contract page, published in February 2023, describes a 90 million pound order for 70 Jackal 3 vehicles as supporting the backfill of vehicles sent under the Ukraine gifting program.
Australia separately donated 14 Extenda Mk2 Special Operations Vehicles in 2023, first observed in Ukrainian service in March 2024. The HMT 600, the 6×6 big brother of the Jackal, has been confirmed in Ukrainian service in two air defense configurations. The Wolfram missile carrier built around the MBDA Brimstone and the Raven launcher firing the ASRAAM missile in a surface-to-air role.
The British Ministry of Defense officially released Raven imagery in 2025. Geolocated combat footage shows ASRAAM strikes downing Russian drones over southern Ukraine in April 2024. Russian social media posted a photograph of an abandoned Extenda Mk2 near Avdiivka. According to unverified accounts, deep reconnaissance teams from Ukrainian Special Operations Forces and the Main Directorate of Intelligence have used the donated vehicles for cross-line raiding.
The exact unit, exact numbers, and exact missions remain classified. The closest German equivalent to the Jackal is the AGF Serval used by the Kommando Spezialkräfte. The Serval is lighter at 3,500 kg, slower at 120 km/h, and only about 21 were built. The closest American equivalent is the Flyer 72, also known as the Ground Mobility Vehicle 1.1 or M1288.
The Flyer is faster on roads, but lighter on payload and protection. United Kingdom Special Forces evaluated the Flyer 72 in 2014 under Project Westerly as a possible Jackal replacement. They retained the Jackal. The opposing philosophy is the heavy mine-resistant ambush-protected vehicle. The German Dingo 2 carries STANAG 4569 Level 3+ armor and a sealed V-hull at 12 and 1/2 tons.
Germany donated 50 Dingos to Ukraine in 2022. The Dingo trusts armor. The Jackal trusts mobility. The bomb you avoid is better than the bomb you survive. The British Army currently operates approximately 431 Jackals and 72 Coyotes, with Babcock having assembled over 600 Supacat platforms at Devonport. Export operators include the United States, Denmark, Australia, Norway, New Zealand, Estonia, Ukraine, and most recently the Czech Republic.
The Jackal 3, ordered in February 2023 under the United Kingdom’s first land industrial strategy contract, entered British service in 2025. A further 53 Jackal 3 extenders were ordered in September 2024. Supacat has integrated the Moog Reconfigurable Integrated Weapons Platform for short-range air defense and the MSI-Defense Counter Unmanned Aerial System.
Both are direct responses to the lessons coming back from Ukraine. April 8, 2008. Helmond. Soldiers had stared at the Jackal and seen a vehicle without a roof. They had seen what the design was missing. What they should have seen was what the design contained, six decades of Special Air Service mobility doctrine. Running from the Pink Panther in the Dofada Dawn through the Pinkie in Western Iraq to the HMT 400 climbing a Helmand wadi, they should have seen the engineering answer to the Snatch Land Rover.
Written in blast vents and air suspension and a gun ring sweeping a full horizon. They should have seen a vehicle designed not to absorb the bomb but to never meet it. The men who drove the Jackal in Helmand learned what the men who built it already knew. The same vehicle is now running in southern Ukraine in colors and configurations the British Ministry of Defense will not name, hunting Russian columns the way Pink Panthers once hunted Scud launchers in Western Iraq.
The doctrine is unbroken. The lineage is unbroken. The bomb you avoid is better than the bomb you survive. From the Dofada Dawn to the Donbas Dusk, the open top still hunts.
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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