It will be a very big job to extract a large lightard stump with a FEL, but not as big as doing it by hand (is that an Alabama backhoe?).
As a youngster on a southwest Georgia farm in the 1950's I had lots of experience with lighter stumps. When my great grandfather started the farm around 1880 it was mostly longleaf pine woods and he had only mules to clear it. He also had a small steam powered sawmill and milled the pine into timber for houses, barns, etc.
They clearly removed some of the stumps, but quite a few were left; perhaps these were the trees that had already died and fell. It was not too hard to plant around the stumps with mules. But when tractors were introduced in the early 1900's the stumps became more of a nuisance. So when the tractor found one while tilling or plowing, it would be marked for removal in the winter. Then during each winter, when there was nothing to do on the row crops, some of the stumps would be removed with dynamite.
As a tyke in the late 1940's Dad let me watch from a safe distance, but by the mid 1950's when I was a "mature" teenager he let me and my younger brother (under my supervision?) blow the stumps ourselves.
We would take a long crowbar (actually a worn out harrow axle sharpened on one end) and poke a hole under the stump, going in at an angle to try to get the bottom of the hole a near the taproot as we could. Then we would put a stick of dynamite in the hole with a long fuse, tamp it, light it, and run. That would usually blow the stump a few feet into the air to one side of the hole.
One afternoon we were feeling brave and since Dad was not around, we decided to put three sticks of dynamite under a stump. We lit the fuse and ran. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dad driving into the field in his fairly new 1956 Ford F100 pickup.
He stopped a safe distance away for a normal blast, but of course this was not normal. The dynamite exploded with a huge roar and split the stump into three pieces that flew high into the air. It seemed like time stood still as we watched one of the three pieces of the stump (fortunately the smaller one) land on the hood of Dad's pickup.
He just sat in the truck and looked at us. It was quite a while before we got the nerve to walk over to his truck. I will leave the rest to your imagination.