It’s “No Man’s Land”, Not “No Bat’s Land”

When I was a little kid, my father’s friend took his pet bats with him everywhere. He kept them sleeping in his military trench coat. As we were in route to the CCCP (the Soviet Union)/Berlin the border guards said that no such animals were to enter the People’s Republic.

Father’s Friend: “No worries. My darlings need their night exercise anyway.”

And he let them loose. I protested.

Me: “They will never find you on the other side of no man’s land!”

But when we arrived on the other side, he whistled a tune, and the bats joyfully flapped to his arms.

When we reached the border on our way home, [Father’s Friend] did the same, and the bats returned once again.