I once got my left arm caught in a bailing machine at an old NW Portland bindery. It was my first night on the job, the safety cage was wired out and my hand got caught on a piece of wire or something else in the bail as the massive plunger came down to compress it. It took my arm in, but thankfully it was a near full bail and I could contort my joints enough to keep from breaking anything. It compressed all the bones in my hand, wrist, and forearm without breaking any of them. It released me as a matter of its course, I went to the hospital, and I was back at work in a sling, pushing a broom with my good arm, before the shift was over. Those seconds, between when I realized what was happening, what was going to happen, and that I could do nothing about it and the actual compression are among some of the longest of my life.