In this journal during 1991 a rather interesting course was published - Karate-Dzesinmon. The magazine "Soviet Militia" was published once a month, and this is how they were looking forward to every month - every issue. It was interesting, and the circulation of the magazine was under a million copies. Such is the popularity of martial arts. (That is, theoretically, at least a million policemen, then the USSR got acquainted with the Dzensimon Karate system in 1991. data-medium-file \u003d "https: //i1.wp..gif? Fit \u003d 189% 2C300 & ssl \u003d 1" data- large-file \u003d "https: //i1.wp..gif? .gif" alt \u003d "(! LANG: covmil" width="646" height="1024">!}
Lesson 1. The study of racks (and the study is superficial - for some reason it is assumed that these racks are known). The study of punches (tsuki) from the stand of kiba and jodan (this is how they are called in Dzenshimon karate), the study of kicks - may geri, gidan geri, kin geri, fumi geri, yoko geri - if you look closely, it turns out to be a complex - Tei tandem ho (technique in place) - that is, the technique of dzensimon karate is supposed to be studied with complexes of movements, which in itself is quite an interesting lesson.
Lesson 2. The study of the Zenshin kobo complex is a beautiful name, but in fact it is only a repetition in various variations of the following combinations: gedan barai, tsuki, mae geri, age uke - in the zenkutsu dachi.
Lesson 3. Studying Kata Taikyoku Shodan - together with the Tai tandem ho and Zensin kobo complexes, it corresponds to the 6-kyu classification level (purple belt) - again, this is the standard Taikyoku kata - movement in Zenkutsu dachas with gedan barai and tsuki - in different directions.
Lesson 4. Happono kata - the fifth level of classification 5 - kyu - purple belt (for some reason again) -
Lesson 5.Pinan Shodan kata - the fourth level of the 4-kyu classification (green belt) - but in fact nothing special - just a slightly modified 1st Pinan kata.
Lesson 6. Pinan Nidan - level 3-kyu (green belt) - again a slightly modified 2nd Pinan kata.
Lesson 7. Pinan Sandan - 2nd kyu - second level of classification - brown belt. Well, again - that is, how can one replace the rather soft requirements - for mastery in karate - Pinan learned the third kata and the brown belt.
Lesson 8. Pinan Yeongdan - 1st kyu - the first level of classification (brown belt) - 4th Pinan kata (I confess I somehow tried to study these Pinan kata (or Heian - for some reason in all styles they are called somewhat "curved" so to speak) relative to each other friend.) - so here are the most boring complexes of movements, some inert ones that do not give any skill or even understanding of the essence of karate - moreover, in my opinion, the Pinan (or Heian) complexes are a direct contradiction to the spirit of Karate. I remember studying these kata Pinan and all wanted to get to Pinan Yodan - there, as you can see, the yoko geri strike is used - well, I think at least something useful - but as it turned out, it is performed very inconveniently and even somehow unnatural - It’s unpleasant to perform this kata.
Lesson 9. Pinan Godan kata - master the potential you can get a black belt - it's so simple - "I am a Black Belt in karate Dzionshimon - I mastered the Pinan Godan kata!" - but you need to remember in fact this is a very low level of mastering hand-to-hand combat - it is definitely better not to use knowledge of this kind on the street - you can be disappointed in karate only in this way.
Lesson 10. Ananku kata - seems to be practiced only by masters of the Jensimon style.
Lesson 11. Naifanchin shodan kata -1-e kata with back to the wall
Lesson 12. Nayanchin nidan kata - 2nd kata with your back to the wall.
in 1992, classes at the Jongsinmon school were continued - and I even personally saw them in the reading room of the city library - the highest kata karate Jongsinmon were already shown there - maybe I’ll get myself together - I’ll go scan it and post it.
also published this magazine in 1990 - also quite interesting. And also monthly.
All martial arts books -
Library of the magazine "Soviet Militia" 3/69/1991
Shield and sword
Vitaly Smirnov
The Killer's Trap (Novel)
On a typical day
Pavel Ivanovich woke up suddenly, as if someone had touched his shoulder. It was quiet and dark all around. Only from the next room came the even breathing of his wife. Dawn is still far away ...
Carefully so as not to squeak the springs, he got up and sat down, felt the slippers with his bare feet.
As he had expected, the clock showed a quarter to two.
Having quickly washed himself, Pavel Ivanovich put on old dark blue trousers and a motley shirt. In a small kitchen to the right of the table I found my "tricky" bag. Small in appearance, it actually held more buckets of mushrooms and was indispensable for forest hikes.
Esipov, the former head of the UGRO region, an old operative, has been retired for the third year already. And such early hikes for mushrooms are almost the main passion of the unhurried old man's life.
He still had enough for public affairs, for books and, of course, for mushroom picking. At first, Esipov often visited the department, and his colleagues did not forget him: they called, sometimes consulted from old memory, if a difficult situation arose. It pleased him. And yet he led a pensioner life, in which there was a lot of free time.
So today was the mushroom day. Having had a quick breakfast, Pavel Ivanovich went out into the street.
The path to the mushroom sites was not close. Pavel Ivanovich passed the cemetery, the forest, the swampy places near the pond, went out to the dachas, and finally found himself on an asphalt road.
The East, meanwhile, was filled with colors, came to life ...
It became brighter. The outlines of the light country houses on the right became clearer. Esipov began to distinguish between blades of grass on the side of the road.
In general, everything alternated as always. Usually at this place Pavel Ivanovich was overtaken by joggers. Always the same people ran. And Pavel Ivanovich already perceived them as his acquaintances.
Indeed, a measured tapping was heard from behind, and he was overtaken by a pair that has become familiar in recent years - most likely a husband and wife.
Usually, a gray-haired, lean, but still cheerful old man ran after. He ran in an imported dark blue suit with wide stripes. He cowed quite easily, and Esipov heard his approach only when he almost caught up with him.
Three athletes were to be expected after him, apparently training here systematically. They ran really, resiliently, quickly. We worked.
When they also overtook Esipov, he was again left alone with dawn, on the road, in tiny gardens that surrounded the asphalt belt of the highway.
Ahead we could already see a turn onto a dirt road leading to the village of Klyuchary. On their way back, a husband and wife trotted out to meet him, then immediately behind them three young sportsmen. Walking to the Birch Grove, the most mushrooming place in the district, Yesipov suddenly caught himself thinking: "And the old man has disappeared somewhere ... Everyone returned, but he is not ...".
But this thought only flickered and disappeared. “You never know what? Maybe he has a dacha in Klyuchary, ”thought Pavel Ivanovich, going deeper into the forest.
Meanwhile, it began to squelch underfoot. It had been raining for a long time, but it was still damp here, and Pavel Ivanovich quickened his pace.
Looking for a suitable stick, an irreplaceable "helper" of a real mushroom picker, he did not forget to look into the grass thickets. Soon he came across two excellent young boletuses.
The mushroom spots began. And almost immediately Esipov noticed a straight, finger-thick, quite suitable nut. Then Pavel Ivanovich began to push the grass with his feet in order to get to the very rhizome of the chosen shoot, and suddenly saw first one and then the other human leg, or rather feet, shod in brand new brown and white sneakers. Legs in woolen, navy blue sweatpants with fashionable stripes were lost in the grass on the opposite side of the bush.
Instantly forgetting about the stick and the mushrooms, Pavel Ivanovich straightened up and looked around the gloomy woodland surrounding him - he got his bearings. It turned out that he had just crossed an old abandoned road, overgrown with grass, and was already around the bend, which it makes very close to the main unpaved highway leading to Klyuchary. The aspen grove here was replaced by rare oaks and lindens, between which curled walnut bushes.
Now, looking around with a completely different, attentive gaze, Pavel Ivanovich noticed characteristic and very fresh traces of dragging something heavy - say, a tightly packed sack or a human body ...
After standing for a minute and fixing what he saw in his memory, the old operative, without crossing the detected trail, walked around the hazel bush on the left and easily found a dead body behind it in the crushed trampled grass. To this place he was, apparently, dragged by the legs, turning him face down. In such a mode of transportation, there must have been a naive calculation - to disfigure the face in order to complicate identification. But Pavel Ivanovich, without even turning the body face up, immediately recognized the deceased: in the grass behind a bush lay, undoubtedly, that same lean old man who had run after the married couple. The gray, short-cropped hair, the familiar dark blue tracksuit left no doubts.
A little bit below the left shoulder blade of the dead man, a dirty brown stain was caked - a trace of a wound. Most likely, he was killed with a blow from some sharp object from behind. Yesipov, an experienced operative, knew how important it was now to fix all the details, not to miss anything. He once again looked around the ill-fated place ... So it is! As Pavel Ivanovich expected, from the trampled site where he found the corpse, a chain of footprints led into the depths of the forest, well marked in the tall grass. The tracks turned out to be quite fresh and it was clear from them that the killer was acting alone.
Esipov involuntarily stroked the back of his head, glanced in the direction where the footprints went: so what, chase him? And then he lowered his hand, shook his head. If I could throw off twenty years from my shoulders ... Otherwise, he will not catch up with that strong and young. "You're just wasting your time, Pasha ..." Pavel Ivanovich said to himself. It was necessary to go out on the road, raise the alarm, call a police detachment, "our" guys ...
Esipov, in order not to confuse the tracks, again walked around the bush in the same way, which led him to the body of the deceased, and headed for the dirt highway leading to the summer cottage village of Klyuchary. He no longer thought about mushrooms.
Around the bend
It was necessary to stop any car going into the city. Five minutes later, Esipov came out of the forest onto a dirt road. And then he was unlucky: he saw a blue Moskvich leaving in the direction of the city. It was useless to shout - the driver could not notice him, and Pavel Ivanovich swore in his hearts. “And where did he come from, this Moskvich? It was as if I had emerged from the forest, ”thought Esipov. Now there was not a soul on the highway. The first bus with summer residents and mushroom pickers will appear not earlier than in an hour.
Suddenly he heard the sound of another approaching car. And indeed, a minute later, a red Zhigulenka emerged from behind the bend, from the side of the Klyucharov dachas.
Gray-haired, with a mischievous heart, Pavel Ivanovich, as a youth, jumped over a deep ditch with water and ran out onto the carriageway. Here he spread his arms wide and froze resolutely. Squealing with the brakes, the Zhigulenka stopped.
Why the hell are you crawling under the wheels? - opening the car door, the redhead yelled at Esipov. - I won’t take it anyway. I'm not a taxi.
Yesipov knew from experience that the mention of "secrecy" works flawlessly. And now the driver's face was stretched out, amazement and attention were reflected on it.
Secret, you say?
The secret is not secret, but I found the murdered man in the forest.
And what do you want to do with him? Are you going to push me into the car?
The redhead became alert again.
No, - Yesipov reassured him. - I'll give you the phone numbers, - Pavel Ivanovich pulled out from the pocket of his shirt, where there was a glass tube with nitroglycerin, a tiny notebook in which, just in case, his last name, first name, patronymic and home phone number were written, he opened it on the first one that came across page and wrote two numbers, too, home phone numbers of police officers, as well as his last name.
And in words you will say: Colonel Esipov found the murdered man. Where to go, you will explain. Let them hurry.
The driver blinked in surprise: the old man in dirty trousers turned out to be a colonel! Business ...
Maybe you yourself can ride with me? - He asked Esipov, completely forgetting that a minute ago he had shouted: "I won't take it anyway ...".
"For courage and selfless actions shown in the line of duty, to award militia lieutenant LADYGA GEORGY EFIMOVICH with the Order of the Red Star."
In the DUTY section the phone rang persistently. Ladyga, who had already gathered home after the raid, understood by the face of the person on duty who was taking the call that something serious had happened.
The captain hung up the receiver and said thoughtfully: “Whom to send! All on the road. Evening". The lieutenant himself offered his services.
In a matter of minutes, the motorcycle delivered Ladyga to a residential building. The tear-stained woman opened the door and confusedly said that her ex-husband had burst into the apartment a few minutes ago drunk and threatened her and the child with violence. “He has a heavy object wrapped in a newspaper in the net,” the woman concluded and asked to accompany her daughter to her acquaintances: she is afraid that the drunken drunk will return again.
The police lieutenant was the first to go out into the street, walked around the house - nothing and no one suspicious. And only when he with a woman and a girl approached the motorcycle, an angry man jumped out of the darkness of the bushes. In his hands was a sawed-off shotgun. He had a finger on the trigger.
George barely had time to shield the woman with the child and shout: "Drop your weapon!" - as at the same moment two shots drowned out his words ... Falling to the ground, Ladyga grabbed the criminal by the leg. They rolled together on the asphalt.
At that time passers-by ran up to the shot. Overcoming the pain, the lieutenant managed to say:
Stop him!
Semyon Kurilo
THE SECRET OF THE CODE
THE SECRET OF THE CODE
Militia Lieutenant-Colonel Mikhail Grigorievich Fedorov carefully peered at the mysterious formula:
the barely noticeable pencil-marked number is 129. Wow puzzle. She attracted the attention of an inquisitive vigilante driver from the village of Eskhar. He found the paper at the place where the noisy company was having fun. The young guy dreamed of serving in the criminal investigation department, helping the police officers in their work, and here, please, - a test of ingenuity. For a long time he himself struggled to solve this riddle, and then turned to the district inspector. And now the sheet was in the hands of the head of the BHSS department of the department of internal affairs. There was also a short message that the revelers, who had left a page with a mysterious note, left in a snow-white "Lada" in the direction of Kharkov. The vigilante did not have time to notice the license plate.
Mikhail Grigorievich brought the note close to the table lamp, as if it could shed light on the subtext of digital and alphabetic characters. Peering, pondering. What is behind all this? Perhaps there is nothing. Or maybe ... Aren't there few cases in his practice when such, meaningless and seemingly insignificant facts then became the key to solving dangerous crimes?
The police lieutenant colonel picked up the telephone receiver:
Ivan Gavrilovich, come to me with Yukhimets.
And here is the head of the BKHS department, police major Argunov and senior operative police captain Vladimir Andreevich Yukhimets in the office.
How many of you are great at solving puzzles?
You know best, Mikhail Grigorievich.
Look at this tape that was handed to me yesterday. Doesn't she tell you anything?
Wait, - remembering something, Yukhimets spoke up, - RSh ... RSh ... Isn't it a cipher of the name of the pens? Cases usually have markings starting with this designation, and then the GOST number and other details.
It is not excluded. And maybe in the "cheat sheet" we are talking about the left products that we are currently dealing with? This note was found on the banks of the Donets, next to five empty bottles of cognac. It’s a pity we don’t know the number of “Lada” of that cheerful company. How, by the way, Vladimir Andreevich, is the audit in the Kulttovary store going?
Yesterday we started checking. Now I'm going to go there.
Please pay special attention to the facts of receipt of off-line pens. Take the puzzle and do not throw it away, let it lie in the safe. Maybe it will come in handy ...
One of the buyers reported to the BHSS department about the conversation he heard between two girls-sellers that some friend of the store manager Varlamov had brought him a "product" in a large portfolio.
Kulttovary was a branded shop selling pens. The signal, of course, deserved serious attention. At the suggestion of the police officers, the administration of the bargaining appointed an inventory of inventory items. Two experienced retired accountants were sent.
Entering the premises and making sure that the auditors had gone headlong into the documents, Yukhimets decided to go through the departments. I went into the back room. Even with a cursory examination, I noticed the disorder. Fountain pens are in shoeboxes, scattered around. Why? Where is their original packaging?
Excuse me, ”Varlamov shrugged his shoulders, ready to warn every desire of the captain. - You understand, we are expanding, you don’t know what to grab onto, but our sellers are mainly young girls, the wind is in our heads. If you turn away a little, they will confuse ...
Of course, this talk can be arranged without malicious intent, without any purpose. But my intuition told me: not everything is clean here. I wonder what the auditors will say? Vladimir Andreevich himself was well versed in the theory of accounting, knew its features, techniques and control techniques. How many times this knowledge helped Yukhimets.
His assistants are working for the third day. Adding machines chirr, pages rustle. Something is starting to clear up. For example, the fact that there are almost half a thousand "extra" fountain pens on the shelves. Arithmetic is reliable. Sample by sample, and it is already well established that unplanned influx has been around for a long time.
Vladimir Andreevich inquired whether all the proceeds surrendered by the sellers accounted for. It turned out that five thousand "walk" no one knows where.
Look what I dug up! - exclaimed one of the inspectors, clutching his head, plunging into the papers.
And my numbers are even worse! - the colleague reacted.
The captain made the first conclusions. It turned out that in the last year alone, the manager appropriated at least about eight thousand rubles.
Now it was possible to start a conversation with him. And, of course, not only about the stolen money ...
Varlamov was not at work. He, as it turned out, was very inappropriately "ill". A truly standard move for dishonest people, Yukhimets immediately realized. Having finished looking through the voluminous case with accounting documents, he decided to talk with the sellers in order to find out more about who the store manager kept in touch with, how he behaved with his subordinates.
Girls in colorful robes were very embarrassed. What can they say about the boss? An energetic and businesslike person. For example, the cashier gets tired, he’s right there: “Go get some rest, I’ll break the check myself ... I often didn’t write invoices to the hawkers, I believed in their word, and took the proceeds of 300-400 rubles:“ Go on, girls, I’ll arrange everything ... ”From the captain I already had an impression of this man. Alas, there was no answer to the main question.
There was a knock on the door. A young dark-haired woman stepped into the office. The captain recognized her. She worked at Kulttovary. I remembered her hot, passionate speeches, reproaches to the head.