"I'm starting to wonder what's gonna kill me first; the Japs or the jungle."
— Thomas "Tommy" Conlin, Medal of Honor: Pacific Assault
"Perhaps the best way is to compare the jungle to a very beautiful woman, the pin-up dream girl in full technicolour, cool, alluring, beautiful and attractive in the heat to look at but, once approached and negotiated with, full of the greatest possibilities of danger and death to the unwary. This simile is particularly apt because, like the figure of the pin-up girl, the jungle is never flat."
— O.G.W. White, Dorsetshire Regiment
"My experience is that the length of life of the British private soldier accidentally left behind in the Malayan jungle was only a few months, while the average N.C.O., being more intelligent, might last a year or even longer. To them the jungle seemed predominantly hostile, being full of man-eating tigers, deadly fevers, venomous snakes and scorpions, natives with poisoned darts, and a host of half-imagined nameless terrors. They were unable to adapt themselves to a new way of life and a diet of rice and vegetables; in this green hell they expected to be dead within a few weeks - and as a rule they were. The other school of thought, that the jungle teems with wild animals, fowls, and fish which are simply there for the taking, and that luscious tropical fruits - paw-paw, yams, bread-fruit and all that, drop from the trees, is equally misleading. The truth is that the jungle is neutral. It provides any amount of fresh water, and unlimited cover for friend as well as foe - an armed neutrality, if you like, but neutrality nevertheless. It is the attitude of mind that determines whether you go under or survive. 'There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.' The jungle itself is neutral."
— Freddie Spencer Chapman
"Whoever said the jungle is neutral aint never been where Im from
In the jungle, you are always being stalked - knowing by what can mean the difference between life and death. To intruders, it is an alien landscape, a singular green hell where anything (or everything) is trying to make a meal of them.
—Warhammer: Lizardmen Book (8th edition)
I can't begin to explain what the rain forest is like. To explain it, you'd have to be a poet and a scientist and a horror writer. All I can say is how it makes you feel. You feel small. Tiny. Alone. Hopelessly weak. Afraid.
You feel heat and suffocating humidity. It's like there's not enough air. Every breath is like sucking air through a straw. You're breathing steam and perfume and the stink of dying, rotting things. The jungle is all around you. It presses against you on all sides. Wet leaves in your face; creepers that seem to reach up to trip you; sharp-edged stalks that cut you.
And then there are the twin horrors: bugs and thirst.
Mosquitoes, gnats, big flies, and other flying insects I didn't even have names for followed us in swirling clouds. They'd descend and attack, then disappear for no reason, only to attack again later. If you stopped, even for a few seconds, you could find your foot covered with ants or centipedes or beetles or bugs that defied description. And it didn't help that we were shoeless. The heat sucked every ounce of moisture out of us. It was as bad as any desert. You'd think with all the greenery there would be water everywhere. But no. The actual ground under our feet was dry. All the water is captured in the plants.
—Animorphs #11: The Forgotten
Such conditions of rain, mud, rottenness, gloom, and above all, the feeling of being shut in by the everlasting jungle and ever ascending mountains, are sufficient to fray the strongest nerves. Add to them the tension of the constant expectancy of death from behind the impenetrable screen of green, and nerves must be of the strongest, and morale of the highest, to live down these conditions.
— Report on operations in New Guinea, 3rd Australian Division