A former industrial job I used to have said that during an all-hands meeting. We were understaffed, underpaid, and overworked, and everyone knew it. Instead of the 2/1 ratio of two machines to one operator for safety reasons, we'd have 4, 6, 8, because people were getting paid less than most retail jobs to bust their asses in some of the most disgusting work I've ever done. You'd come home covered in moldy coolant, metal shavings, and STINK. Machines started breaking down, because they'd never shut them down to perform maintenance on them, so we'd often have massive problems, which, of course, meant even more overtime to make up for the broken machines, and people started quitting.
Management's response was to tell us that they expected us to work harder, because they couldn't get more help in. One of my coworkers, who generally gave no fucks, asked, in front of everyone in that room, why they didn't try raising the poor wages, and see if they could entice people that way. The response was "We're not having that conversation right now. If you don't like it, you can quit."
Hoo, buddy, was that the wrong thing to say. As soon as word got out to the other shifts, what can only be called a fucking exodus began. We lost half of each shift within the week. I stuck around for a few more weeks, until I had a conflict with my schooling at the time, since one of my classes got out about 30 minutes before my shift, 30 minutes away, so I warned them in advance that I might be a few minutes late one day a week, MAYBE, and got told that "I needed to decide what was more important, my school, or my job." So I quit. And giggled my ass off at the sign in the HR office that said we had an almost 80% turnover rate. Never did find out what happened to that hellhole, but I can't imagine anything good with losing that many people. The poor HR rep seemed like she was just so fucking done with everything, and seemed so very apologetic as she took my badge.