Recall that "computer" originally meant a person who computed things. Only later did we call machines "computers." Here is a somewhat long quotation from Lewis Richardson, who developed the science of numerical weather forcasting in his spare time while driving an ambulance in World War I (he later went on to invent the mathematical treatment of arms races and the outbreak of war).
It took me the best part of six weeks to draw up the computing forms and to work out the new distribution in two vertical columns for the first time. My office was a heap of hay in a cold rest billet. With practice the work of an average computer might go ten times faster. If the time step were 3 hours, then 32 individuals could just compute two points so as to keep ahead of the weather, if we allow nothing for the very great gain in speed which is invariably noticed when a complicated operation is divided up into simpler parts. ... But in any case, the organization indicated is a central forecast-factory for the whole globe, or for portions extending to boundaries where the weather is steady, with individual computers specializing on the separate equations. Let us hope for their sakes that they are moved from time to time to new operations. ... After so much hard reasoning, may one play with a fantasy? Imagine a large hall like a theatre, except that the circles and gallaries go right round through the space usually occupied by the stage. The walls of this chamber are painted to form a map of the globe. The ceiling represents the north polar regions, England is in the gallery, the tropics in the upper circle, Australia on the dress circle, and the antarctic in the pit. A myriad of computers are at work upon the weather of the part of the map where each sits, but each computer attends only to one equation or part of an equation. The work of each region is coordinated by an official of higher rank. ... From the floor of the pit a tall pillar rises to half the hieght of the hall. It carries a large pulpit on its top. In this sits the man in charge of the whole theatre; he is surrounded by several assistants and messengers. One of his duties is to maintain a uniform speed of progress in all parts of the globe. In this respect he is like the conductor of an orchestra in which the instruments are slide-rules and calculating machines. But instead of a baton he turns a beam of rosy light upon any region that is running ahead of the rest, and a beam of blue light upon those who are behindhand. ... Outside
