It seems to me that one of the great ironies of military history – the study of the most terrible of human endeavours – is its capacity to attract peaceloving gentlemen like Andrew Ayton and the late Maurice Keen. Like Maurice, Andrew has been in the vanguard of modern studies, a disciplined and clear-sighted campaigner, mindful of the collective interest and of the contributions of others, including those who went before – ‘companionship- in-arms’ is an appropriate analogy. In his early works Andrew called for the systematic exploitation of the voluminous but ‘unexplored’ records of military service and its prosopographical study. That the situation is now so radically changed is due in large measure to his approach and his endeavour. Like all successful captains he has been able to inspire others to further the enterprise, and to adapt to circumstances by following up on both his own and their subsequent successes.

A further characteristic of his work is that he avoids seeing military service as a discrete area of life but looks rather at the interaction between ‘military’ and ‘civilian’ dimensions. As he shows, there is a two-way traffic. On the one hand prevailing norms, in terms of social interaction, belief and behaviour, had profound implications for military recruitment, as he deftly demonstrates. Moreover, since society was not static but evolving, recruitment was, from the outset, dynamic even before the impact of military changes and developments. On the other hand, the high level of military involvement achieved by the English kings in their wars cannot have failed to have equally profound effects upon aristocratic society in general. While he has not dealt with this question systematically, he has thrown out challenges to historians of the gentry along the way. In his essay on the aristocracy at the outset of the Hundred Years’ War, Ayton effectively proffered his glove to those historians of the gentry who place their emphasis upon the role of landowners in county administration: ‘Given the range of military commitments facing the traditional warrior class in England at the start of the Hundred Years’ War, commitments involving the defence of the realm as well as the king's expeditions to France, should we not conclude that war was the prime “public” activity of the gentry at this time?’