Al Stewart's Manuscript looks at the runup to war:

Oh the lights of Saint Petersburg come on as usual
Although the air seems charged with a strangeness of late,
Yet there's nothing to touch
And the Tsar in his great Winter Palace has called for the foreign news
An archduke was shot down in Bosnia, but nothing much

And my grandmother sits before the mirror in the days before the war
Smiling a secret smile as she goes to the door
And the young man rides off in his carriage, homeward once more
And the sun sets gently on England.

And his Fields of France is about the air war:

A single biplane in a clear blue sky
1917, no enemy was seen
High above the fields of France

Oh she looks
But there's nothing to see
Still she looks
Saying come back to me