Fond memories of a long demo flight to the west and back in the H de H Beech 99. As an accomplished raconteur he made a pretty deft driver airframe.
When he was flying for Murdoch he landed one morning at Cavan on the shores of Burrenjuck. Had not been in there before. Landed on the short strip closer to the homestead into 3-4 foot high grass, instead of the longer one a few miles away. The boss's Merc tore up trailing dust. Himself climbed in the 402, pulled the door up and straight away got stuck into the pile of fresh newspapers waiting on a back seat for him. Bresso described Murdoch's method of reading a paper - (with gestures) - speed reading every page then ripping it away and throwing it over his shoulder. A good impersonation by the story teller, true. All this was flavoured by the smell of the slowly cooking grass seeds the engines had taken in. JB started up, taxied back as far as possible against the fence. As he was about to open the taps RM flopped into the right seat, asking his pilot "WILL WE MAKE IT?"
"AHH .... LET YOU KNOW SHORTLY . . . SIR!"
(Says that RM's agitated body language during the take-off was something to behold. Come to think of it, in total contrast to the almost torpid, phlegmatic body language of the bulky Mr Bresso.)