If there is any blame, I’d rather blame the driver, not the Troopie, mate!
Some of the dunes are a bit higher than they look on a 2D screen, the sand is pretty soft, some of the holes dug by other drivers are quite deep and carrying 400 litres of diesel, 100 litres of drinking water and other fluids, recovery gear, camping gear, food for 14 days, personal gear and photo gear adds a couple of lbs that one needs to be gentle with.
Joints, and entire suspensions tend to dissentegrate, even chassis get cracked and tyres get punctured. Everything happens a few hundred kms away from any potential assistance...
As you may very well know, the magic secret for crossing the sand dunes is the low tyre pressure (we went to 13 psi on factory type stock tyres) and the constant “tango” with the engine's rpm. A bit of vehicle inertia gained at the base of the dune, combined with allowing the engine to breathe when it chokes, contribute to doing the trick too...

But the problem is that the deep holes at the base of the dunes, eat up all that momentum...
Unfortunately, there were no lockers on that Troopie. And it had 349,000 kms under the hood. Not a shinning diva anymore...

but still reliable enough to trust it with our lives.
No dune took more than 3 attempts (2 + 1) and the vehicle made it for 7,457 km without a flat tyre or any malfunction. I take that anytime over forcing it to cross all the dunes at the first attempt.
The value and perception of time in remote places is a bit different from the rush specific to driving closer to asphalt and civilization...
We treasure the precious state of mind one attains in remote places.
Although both, Seasick and I, were born in Romania, I am not sure when we might stroll through Romania again. The most recent visit was a kayaking trip in the Danube Delta in the summer of 2012. The following is a shamelss plug for that video...

(it's shorter!)
Many thanks for the invitations to Belgium and Romania. We’d be honored to visit both places.
Cheers.