My Father often told stories of the Great Depression and Post World War II era. In those days locals often worked for a sheep station literally across the road from where I grew up. All types of tasks requiring manual labour were undertaken.
One such day it was cutting up wood for the station fires. Dad told of one of the men who was operating the saw bench who had cut off a finger or two. Blood was streaming everywhere and after the blood flow had been reduced someone asked him what had happened. The saw bench operator replied, ‘I don’t know. I only did this’ and flicked his hand toward the still spinning saw bench.
The result was drastic as the remainder of his fingers dropped alongside the whirring blade.
If not familiar with a saw bench, can you imagine this handyman’s saw bench (which has a blade approximately eight inches in diameter)…
…with a blade about two feet in diameter and
propelled by a belt attached to a tractor.